Summertime and the Reading is Easy, Part III

August was a very busy month, so my reading was rather limited and still on the lighter side. On a positive note, we have returned to a more normal home schooling schedule, so the kids and I are making better progress with our read-aloud titles, even fitting in some just for fun, not merely those that complement our history studies, which are usually fun, too, of course.

Further Chronicles of Avonlea by L. M. Montgomery
This was more therapeutic reading after the Jodi Picoult novel I read in July, but then any excuse to read Montgomery will do! I read this on my Kindle, so I didn't get to enjoy that pretty cover. I do find the Kindle to be a very good format for short stories, however, since it's easy to take along with me and read when I have a few minutes here or there. Of course, reading Montgomery is delightful, and I heartily recommend these stories for refreshment from modern novels!

The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict by Trenton Lee Stewart
It's rather convenient to start reading a series when it is mostly complete (I did that with the Harry Potter books, too). You don't have to wait months for the latest installment, and, in this case, when a prequel is released, you can read it before finishing the later books to have some better insight into the characters. Of course, you may choose to differ with my approach, but I generally prefer to take things chronologically whenever possible. Anyway, all preferences aside, this book was available from the library sooner than the 2nd volume of the Mysterious Benedict Society, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I was rather pleased with myself that I figured out the mystery very early in the book, but I won't give it away. For a much better analysis of the book, see Janet's review at Across the Page.

The Virgin in the Ice The Sixth Chronicle of Brother Cadfael by Ellis Peters
I've said before how much I enjoy the Brother Cadfael mysteries - they include almost all of my favorite things: history, theology, mystery, just a little romance in good taste (none of the too-much-information of modern novels). I'm not sure why I haven't read more than six of them in the past two years, but I guess it's kind of like saving the best for last. I want to draw out the enjoyment of this 21-book series, so I read them sparingly. I think I might need to reconsider that approach, however, since I was reminded once again how satisfying they are.

Here are a couple quotations just to tease you:

Beautiful prose: "The branches of trees sagged heavily towards the ground under their load [of snow], and by mid-afternoon the leaden sky was sagging no less heavily earthwards, in swags of blue-black cloud." (17)

Tidbits of wisdom: "It was all too easy to turn honest anxiety over someone loved into an exaltation of a man's own part and duty as protector, a manner of usurpation of the station of God. To accuse oneself of falling short of infallibility is to arrogate to oneself the godhead thus implied." (88)

Read aloud:

Huguenot Garden by Douglas M. Jones III
This is a family-centered story set in 17th century France when Louis XIV persecuted the Protestant Huguenots. It was well-written and informative, but also simple enough and suspenseful enough to keep my children captivated. Without being overly dramatic or graphic, the author conveyed the faith and sacrifices that were required of Reformed believers during dangerous times, uniquely centering the story on twin girls, two of six children in the family, so that one experiences the full effects of persecution from an innocent perspective.

One chapter focuses on the baptism of the family's new baby, so it provided a good format for discussing the differences between paedobaptism and credobaptism. (Our church is unique in that we have both paedobaptists and credobaptists on our pastoral staff. Recognizing that both views have been held by godly men throughout Church history, we do not divide on this issue, and we all love one another, too!) I only mention this since Baptists might want to be prepared to answer questions if you read this to your kids (aim for understanding, not condemnation).


Tucker's Countryside by George Selden
We also read this sequel to The Cricket in Times Square, which we had listened to on CD earlier in the summer. The sequel isn't nearly so good as the original, in this case, but the animals are cute and their adventures entertaining. There were, however, two aspects that I didn't particularly care for.

First, Tucker's Countryside has a rather overt message of saving the meadows and forests from the bad City Councilmen who want to build apartments. Now stewardship is all fine and good as long as it doesn't become a god unto itself, but this is exactly what our culture has done. I always try to temper stories like this with the caveat that God gave us the earth to use and to take care of, and that people who are made in His image are always more important than animals. Sometimes that might mean that it is better to build apartments than save the meadow.

More disturbing, however, is the situational ethics employed by the animal characters who justify lying and deception as a means to a greater end. Now obviously it's just fiction - animals don't talk or make rational decisions to lie in real life. But at the same time, I don't want to leave my children with the idea that it's OK to tell "little white lies" or intentionally deceive others just because cute animals did it in a book and everything turned out fine. So we talk about it - just brief little questions such as, "Do think that was the right thing to do?" But hopefully those questions will build discernment. I appreciate Carrie's thoughts on this topic recently, too.

April Reading...before May is all done

Time flies, and it seemed to go especially quickly in April. Nevertheless, reading continues even on busy days, so here's the monthly recap:

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh
I can't recall ever reading a fictional book that I enjoyed less, and I wasn't alone in that opinion, as everyone in my book club seemed to agree. Perhaps more die-hard Anglophiles might have found something to love in it, but I thought all the characters were deplorable narcissists - truly the biggest bunch of navel-gazers ever collected between the covers of a book! Just as the book of Judges is depressing because everyone did what was right in their own eyes, so this story is very depressing because vice and vanity are relentlessly pursued in an elusive search for happiness. With that said, however, Waugh did capture the essence of sin in the most succinct and raw fashion that I have read in a novel (at least as far as my memory serves). I'll quote it here so that you have the benefit of reflecting on its accuracy, and perhaps searching your heart to see if you have pet sins of which you should repent, and you can thank me for saving you the tedium of reading the book:

     "'Living in sin, with sin, by sin, for sin, every hour, every day, year in, year out. Waking up with sin in the morning, seeing the curtains drawn on sin, bathing it, dressing it, clipping diamonds to it, feeding it, showing it round, giving it a good time, putting it to sleep at night with a tablet of Dial if it's fretful.
     'Always the same, like an idiot child carefully nursed, guarded from the world. "Poor Julia," they say, "she can't go out. She's got to take care of her little sin. A pity it ever lived," they say, "but it's so strong. Children like that always are. Julia's so good to her little, mad sin."'" (287)

Now, that's not a pretty description, nor an encouraging one, but it certainly provides much to ponder, and if it leads to repentance, then my reading of this book was not in vain.

Choosing to SEE: A Journey of Struggle and Hopeby Mary Beth Chapman
I needed something real to counter the unreality of Brideshead Revisited (although a friend reminded me that such an empty life was/is a reality for some, which is a sobering thought). I had known of the Chapman's loss of one of their adopted daughters several years ago, but didn't really know much of the story. Mary Beth Chapman writes with honesty of the fears and struggles that she has experienced throughout her life of faith, with the greatest of these being the loss of 5-year-old Maria in 2008. I used the word "raw" for the description of sin above, and it applies here, too, though the contexts are so very different. The death of a child can shake one's faith to the core, and Mary Beth writes openly of her doubts, anger, and disbelief, and of her faith, security, and hope in God and the promise of heaven. It's an emotional story, but an encouraging one, a truthful one that depicts death as the enemy, Christ as the victor, and heaven as our home and hope.

 Dangerous Journey: The Story of Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan and Oliver Hunkin
It's been a while since I've read Pilgrim's Progress, but this is an excellent children's version which retains both the language and the lessons of the original. My kids enjoyed this book, and I've already used its allegories to remind them of "fighting Apollyon" when they are having a difficult time with self-control. All too often, sin seems to be glossed over and excused rather than exposed and resisted. So while I will readily admit that all allegories have their shortcomings, I'm grateful for this tool to help my children understand some aspects of the Christian walk.

The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien
I can't take credit for reading this one aloud, but I did listen while my husband, an original Tolkien fan (yes, before there were movies!), read this to our kids, ages 5 and 8. This was required reading before the Hobbit movie is released in December, but aside from the much-anticipated movie, it was delightful to share Middle Earth and Tolkien's wonderful story-telling with my family. So after you've enjoyed My Father's Dragon  (linked to my review) with your young readers, be sure to introduce them to Smaug (a not-so-nice dragon) and Bilbo Baggins!

See, this is how much of a Tolkien fan my husband is. These are bookcases that he built for our office/library a few years ago. Pretty cool, huh?

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo

I count it no small accomplishment to have read Les Misérables in 28 days - yes, all 1463 pages in just 4 weeks! Now, I must admit that I skimmed some of the more lengthy historical parts, but I did slough my way through 60+ pages on 19th century Parisian sewers. That's got to make up for skimming the parts I read ten years ago during my first attempt when I only made it about two-thirds of the way through the book.

There is so much that could be said about this novel, and I immensely enjoyed our book club discussion which delved into many and varied topics. Julia's insights into the lack of father figures was particularly insightful!

As for me, the characters are what make a great book, and Les Misérables has an amazing cast of characters that evoke a whole spectrum of emotions. The bishop, Monseigneur Bienvenu, is inspiring and endearing. Jean Valjean is marvelous, complex, troubled, and above all good after the act of forgiveness and generosity that transformed him. Thenardier, well, he simply makes me shudder, and his wife is just as dreadful. Cosette and Eponine...I could go on and on...

But the main topic that I have debated myself is the idea of redemption in this novel. I think my expectations must have been too high to start with because I had been told that Les Misérables is the greatest story of redemption ever written, apart from the Bible, and I read it with that in view. I think I was looking for a more obvious correlation to the gospel, an actual spiritual redemption, not simply a moral one. But I suppose that was too much to expect from a story set in Roman Catholic Paris and from an author who rejected his Roman Catholic upbringing and called himself a freethinker.

Redemption is certainly a theme, but I must question if it is truly a Christian view of redemption since Christ is noticeably absent. Though the bishop's words certainly convey the idea "You were bought with a price..." (I Corinthians 6:20; 7:23), that price was paid by the bishop himself, and it is to him that Jean Valjean's thoughts always turn when he wrestles with difficult decisions about the right path to follow. This charge: "Do not forget, ever, that you have promised me to use this silver to become an honest man...Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. It is your soul I am buying from you. I withdraw it from dark thoughts and from the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God" (106) becomes the guiding force of Jean Valjean's life, but in the absence of the gospel - of a clear declaration that Christ died for you, now you must live for Him - Jean Valjean's goodness is only a compilation of merits accumulated to assuage his conscience and overcome the social stigma of a convict. Now it must be granted that such a view is in keeping with the teachings of the Roman Catholic Church where redemption would be the process of a lifetime, a conjoining of the work of Christ with the works of man. This is understandable in the historical context of 19th century France, but while a works-based idea of redemption may be true to the historical context and setting of the novel, it simply is not the penultimate illustration of redemption since true redemption cannot be separated from the true and complete gospel.

Thus, my Protestant and Reformed sensibilities have a hard time applying the term "redemption" to the whole story. It could be construed as a story of sanctification, though there are theological difficulties with that, as well, given the Roman Catholic context of the novel (see above). But if we shift the focus from man to God, it becomes quite obvious (to me, at least) that Les Misérables is a story of providence. Maybe this was even Victor Hugo's intention. He writes, "This book is a drama whose first character is the Infinite. Man is the second" (509). At the very least a testimony to providence is the result he could not hide in spite of his vague deist ideas of God, for he crafts a story in which it is only too obvious that something, someONE is superintending all events, bringing the exact people and circumstances together at the right times to preserve life, to give second chances, and yes, to further moral redemption, even if not salvific.

Now I'd like to hear your thoughts on this. Have you always considered Les Misérables a story of redemption? Can you see how it is a story of providence from first to last? Whatever your opinion, I'm sure we can agree that Les Misérables remains one of the greatest novels of all time, unsurpassed in its depiction of the depths and the heights of human character. Even though its length is daunting, it was well-worth the time (which really didn't seem that long), and I hope to read it at least once per decade.

On a side note, aren't these original (1862) illustrations of Cosette and Gavroche by Emile Bayard amazing? I would love to see an edition that included all the original illustrations.

A Morbid Taste for Bones: The First Chronicle of Brother Cadfael by Ellis Peters

Where has the summer gone? Even though the temperatures are still in the 90's, we are jumping right into fall activities, and I should probably blog about the books I read in July before August escapes me. So while I was entertained, but not particularly impressed with Percy Jackson, I absolutely loved the other series that I started, thanks to the recommendation of Caniad at Dwell in Possibility.

As I've said before, mysteries are my preferred genre, and I think they are perfect for summer reading - engaging enough to keep my brain active, but not so heavy (literally or figuratively) that I can't breeze through one (or two) during a weekend vacation or finish one between picking and canning tomatoes! The Brother Cadfael series by Ellis Peters is near perfection, in my opinion, combining medieval history, a fairly complex mystery, theology, and even a little romance!

Since Caniad has already provided a great introduction to the author and the series, as well as a succinct summary of the plot in her post on A Morbid Taste for Bones, I'll simply give you my favorite passages and call it good. How's that for catching up?

"When you have done everything else, perfecting a conventual herb-garden is a fine and satisfying thing to do. He could not conceive of coming to this stasis having done nothing else whatever." (3)

"'Did you see?' said Brother John in Cadfael's ear, pacing beside the sumpter mule. 'Did you see how the beasts laboured towards that fellow not to escape the goad, only to go where he willed, only to please him? And such labour! That I should like to learn!'" (24)

"'In my church,' said Huw humbly, 'I have never heard that the saints desired honour for themselves, but rather to honour God rightly.'" (28)

"Well, thought Cadfael, letting them go without him, and turning to meet Sioned's steady gaze, God sort all! As doubtless he is doing, now as ever!" (85)

"'Speak out,' said the prior, not unkindly. 'You have never sought to make light of your failings, I do not think you need fear our too harsh condemnation. You have been commonly your own stearnest judge.' So he had, but that, well handled, can be one way of evading and forestalling the judgements of others." (95)

". . .great violence had been done to what he knew to be right, and great requital was due from the sinner, and great compassion due to him." (142)

"'. . .and if God aids me with some new thought - for never forget God is far more deeply offended even than you or I by this great wrong! - I'll come to you there.'" (147)

"'And leave agonising too much over your sins, black as they are, there isn't a confessor in the land who hasn't heard worse and never turned a hair. It's a kind of arrogance to be so certain you're past redemption.'" (151)

Almost all of these demonstrate what I love best about the Brother Cadfael mysteries: there is wisdom in these pages, not just a good story, and the two combined make them a joy to read!

Stepping Heavenward by Elizabeth Prentiss

I read Stepping Heavenward almost twenty years ago when it was first reprinted by Calvary Press and highly recommended by Elisabeth Elliot. Although I'm sure I reread it at least once in my late teens, I deeply regret that I didn't return to it more often in the ensuing years. That was partly due to the fact that I always seemed to give away any copies I had on hand, but I'm sure I could have used its wisdom as much or more than those I shared it with. Needless to say, when our church's women's Bible Study decided to read and discuss this book this spring (using Stepping Heavenward: A Bible Study Guide as a starting point for discussions), I was very excited to revisit an old friend.

Elizabeth Prentiss writes with incredible insight into a woman's character and shows how an impetuous, selfish girl is transformed into the image of Christ by growing in grace and sanctification through years of inward and outward struggles. Stepping Heavenward is written as a diary that the protagonist, Katy, begins on her 16th birthday and continues into her early forties. Although it is set in the mid-1800's, it is truly remarkable to see how little human nature has changed in almost 200 years. This novel seems to capture that so remarkably (as opposed to other classics from this time period) because there is comparatively little description of time or place, and the most striking cultural differences seem to be in the susceptibility to illness and the general frailty of life that we forget in the 21st century. Instead, the setting is primarily Katy's heart and inward life, though of course she describes how her own actions and interactions with others, as well as other trials and circumstances, refine her spirit until she eventually exclaims, "Yes, I love everybody! That crowning joy has come to me at last. Christ is in my soul; He is mine; I am as conscious of it as that my husband and children are mine; and His Spirit flows forth from mine in the calm peace of a river whose banks are green with grass and glad with flowers" (339).

Here are some more of my favorite quotations, several of them pertaining to motherhood, since it seems I need those reminders most at this stage of my life, but many of them pertaining to the "journey to godliness" which is not bound by life's stages or circumstances.

"I wonder if, after all, mothers are not the best friends there are!" (51). I know this is true for me - my Mom has been my best friend for years and years!

"'Go home and say over and over to yourself, "I am a wayward, foolish child. But He loves me! I have disobeyed and grieved Him ten thousand times. But He loves me! I have lost faith in some of my dearest friends and am very desolate. But He loves me! I do not love Him; I am even angry with Him! But He loves me!"'" (59)

"'I hope [my heart] is renewed,' I replied. 'But I know there is a great work still to be done in it. And the more effectually it is done, the more loving I shall grow. Don't you see, Father? Don't you see that the more Christ-like I become, the more I shall be filled with love for every living thing?" (175)

"God never gives us hindrances. On the contrary, He means, in making us wives and mothers, to put us into the very conditions of holy living. But if we abuse His gifts by letting them take His place in our hearts, it is an act of love on His part to take them away or to destroy our pleasure in them. It is delightful...to know that there are some generous souls on earth who love their dear ones with all their hearts yet give those hearts unreservedly to Christ" (212)

"Here is a sweet, fragrant mouth to kiss; here are two more feet to make music with their pattering about my nursery. Here is a soul to train for God; and the body in which it dwells is worthy all it will cost, since it is the abode of a kingly tenant. I may see less of friends, but I have gained one dearer than them all, to whom, while I minister in Christ's name, I make a willing sacrifice of what little leisure for my own recreation my other darlings had left me. Yes, my precious baby, you are welcome to your mother's heart, welcome to her time, her strength, her health, her tenderest cares, to her lifelong prayers! Oh, how rich I am, how truly, how wondrously blest!" (228-229)

"What I am, that I must be, except as God changes me into His own image. And everything brings me back to that, as my supreme desire. I see more and more that I must be myself what I want my children to be and that I cannot make myself over even for their sakes. This must be His work, and I wonder that it goes on so slowly; that all the disappointments, sorrows, sicknesses I have passed through have left me still selfish, still full of imperfections!" (287)

"But I see now that the simple act of cheerful acceptance of the duty imposed and the solace and support withdrawn would have united me more fully to Christ than the highest enjoyment of His presence in prayer could. Yes, every act of obedience is an act of worship..." (311)

There are few books that I would consider reading on a yearly basis, but Stepping Heavenward is one that I think I need to read annually. I urge every woman to read it, too, and give it away liberally if at all possible. Whatever stage of life you might be at, you will find encouragement and above all truth!

While you can find Stepping Heavenward on Amazon (if you purchase through the links in this post I'll get a teeny, tiny percentage to support my book fund), this and several other of Elizabeth Prentiss's books are also available through Grace & Truth Books, and many facsimiles of old editions are entirely online. I am particularly interested to read The Home at Greylock, which is described as "A masterpiece which explains the task of Christian parenting in story form."

The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis

I feel like I'm falling behind in both blogging and reading, so I'm returning to my "favorite quotations" method of book blogging. I read The Screwtape Letters in an older paperback (published by A Mentor Book in 1988), but it looks like most paperback editions are out of print, or at least not readily available on Amazon. The image is not the same book that I read, but it was the best available. 

For those who are not familiar with the premise of the book, it is a series of letters from a senior demon named Screwtape to his nephew Wormwood, giving him advice on the management of his patient (human) so as to lure him away from the Enemy (God). For such a small book, it is extremely thought-provoking and insightful, not only of the human condition but also of the character and nature of God.

ON HUMAN RELATIONS: "Your patient must demand that all his own utterances are to be taken at their face value and judged simply on the actual words, while at the same time judging all his mother's utterances with the fullest and most oversensitive interpretation of the tone and the context and the suspected intention. She must be encouraged to do the same to him. Hence from every quarel they can both go away convinced, or very nearly convinced, that they are quite innocent." (11)

ON PRAYER: after giving examples of how humans tend to pray to a mental image of God, either figurative or literal, Screwtape writes, "But whatever the nature of the composite object, you must keep him praying to it - to the thing that he has made, not to the Person who has made him...For if he ever comes to make the distinction, if ever he consciously directs his prayers 'Not to what I think thou art but to what thou knowest thyself to be,' our situation is, for the moment, desperate." (16)

ON PLEASURE: "Never forget that when we are dealing with any pleasure in its healthy and normal and satisfying form, we are, in a sense, on the Enemy's ground. I know we have won many a soul through pleasure. All the same, it is His invention, not ours. He made the pleasures; all our research so far has not enabled us to produce one. All we can do is to encourage the humans to take the pleasures wheich our Enemy has produced, at times, or in ways, or in degrees, which He has forbidden. Hence we always try to work away from the natural condition of any pleasure to that in which it is least natural, least redolent of its Maker, and least pelasurable." (34)

"The man who truly and disinterestedly enjoys any one thing in the world, for its own sake, and without caring twopence what other people say about it, is by that very fact forearmed against some of our subtlest modes of attack." (56)

"[The Enemy] has filled His world full of pleasures. There are things for humans to do all day long without His minding in the least - sleeping, washing, eating, drinking, making love, playing, praying, working. Everything has to be twisted before it's any use to us." (87)

ON LOSING SELF: "When [the Enemy] talks of their losing their selves, He only means abandoning the clamour of self-will; once they have done that, He really gives them back all their personality, and boasts (I am afraid, sincerely) that when they are wholly His they will be more themselves than ever. Hence, while He is delighted to see them sacrificing even their innocent wills to His, He hates to see them drifting awy from their own nature for any other reason. And we should always encourage them to do so. The deepest likings and impulses of any man are the raw material, the starting point, with which the Enemy has furnished him. (51)

ON PRIDE: "The Enemy wants to bring the man to a state of mind in which he could design the best cathedral in the world, and know it to be the best, and rejoice in the fact, without being any more (or less) or otherwise glad at having done it than he would be if it had been done by another. The Enemy wants him, in the end, to be so free from any bias in his own favour that he can rejoice in his own talents as frankly and gratefully as in his neighbour's talents - or in a sunrise, an elephant, or a waterfall. He wants each man, in the long run, to be able to recognise all creatures (even himself) as glorious and excellent things." (55)

ON TIME & ETERNITY: "The humans live in time but our Enemy destines them to eternity. He therefore, I believe, wants them to attend chiefly to two things, to eternity itself, and to that point of time which they call the Present. For the Present is the point at which time touches eternity. Of the present moment, and of it only, humans have an experience analogous to the experience which our Enemy has of reality as a whole; in it alone freedom and actuality are offered them." (57)

ON THE IDEAL WOMAN: "...we are more and more directing the desires of men to something which does not exist - making the role of the eye in sexuality more and more important and at the same time making its demands more and more impossible. What follows you can easily forecast!" (79)

ON UNSELFISHNESS: "...you can from the very outset teach a man to surrender benefits not that others may be happy in having them but that he may be unselfish in forgoing them. That is a great point gained. Another great help, where the parties concerned are male and female, is the divergence of view about Unselfishness which we have built up between the sexes. A woman means by Unselfishness chiefly taking trouble for others; a man means not giving trouble to others...Thus while the woman thinks of doing good offices and the man of respecting other people's rights, each sex, without any obvious unreason, can and does regard the other as radically selfish." (105-106)

ON HUMAN FREEDOM & DIVINE SOVEREIGNTY: "...the Enemy does not foresee the humans making their free contributions in the future, but sees them doing so in His unbounded Now. And obviously to watch a man doing something is not to make him do it." (112-113)

ON GUILT: "There is, of course, always the chance, not of chloroforming the shame, but of aggravating it and producing Despair. This would be a great triumph. It would show that he had believed in, and accepted, the Enemy's forgiveness of his other sins only because he himself did not fully feel their sinfulness - that in respect of the one vice which he really understands in its full depth of dishonour he cannot see, nor credit, the Mercy. But I fear you have already let him get too far in the Enemy's school, and he knows that Despair is a greater sin than any of the sins which provoke it." (122-123)

Spotlight on Church History: Origen

In the coming months, I intend to read more non-fiction, especially Church History and Historical Theology. As a first step towards those ends, I will periodically be posting summaries of biographies and other historical or theological texts that I read several years ago. These were originally written as an annotated bibliography. By posting them in this public forum, I hope to encourage others to delve into these important subjects for our faith in these days. These are not intended as "cliff notes" on academic texts, and I do not wish to encourage plagiarism or shoddy scholarship if other students happen upon them in the course of their research. Many of these books may be out of print but are likely available through university libraries or inter-library loan. I will provide a link to Amazon whenever possible, which will generate a small percentage to support my book fund if you make a purchase after following that link.

Origen (c. 185-254)
Crouzel, Henri. Origen - The Life and Thought of the First Great Theologian. Translated by A. S. Worrall. San Francisco: Harper and Row Publishers, 1989. (269 pages)

Crouzel writes a summary of Origen’s life and thought that is at once thorough, scholarly, objective, and sympathetic. His wide knowledge of all extant documents attributed to Origen allows him to evaluate the common conceptions of this early theologian with greater historical accuracy than is generally afforded him in other studies, and in so doing provides an excellent introduction for theological students and a springboard for further studies.

Origen was born in Alexandria, an intellectual center of the ancient world, in approximately 185 A.D. His life and theology were shaped by a classical and biblical education, his father’s martyrdom, and the unsettled times, both politically and theologically, in which he lived. Origen first earned his livelihood teaching grammar or rhetoric, but his biblical knowledge was recognized by Demetrius, the bishop of Alexandria, who made him head of the catechetical school when he was only eighteen years old (8). His teaching included both philosophy and theology, but his purpose was always to use philosophy to lead those who inquired about the Christian faith to baptism (27) and to provide Christians with Scriptural answers to intellectual problems to keep them from Gnostic sects (14, 153). In either 231 or 233, Origen traveled from Alexandria and eventually settled in Caesarea of Palestine where he continued to teach, occasionally enduring persecution, until his death in approximately 254-255.

After summarizing his life and cataloging his works, Crouzel divides the remainder of this study into three sections dealing with Origen’s exegesis, spirituality and theology. Origen is most often characterized as minimizing literal interpretation and seeking primarily an allegorical or spiritual meaning in Scripture. While Crouzel recognizes the limitations and weaknesses of Origen’s methods, he also demonstrates that Origen operated under a different definition of “literal” than the modern exegete. One today seeks the literal meaning in the intention of the author whatever the literary genre, but Origen understood “literal” to indicate strictly the words of the text (62). Thus, in many cases where the intention of the author is figurative or parabolic, Origen would find a spiritual meaning, while the modern exegete would claim it was a literal interpretation of the biblical author’s intention. Although one still might conclude that Origen took his quest for the spiritual meaning too far, understanding these differences in terms, does help the student to better appreciate Origen’s attempt in the context within which he worked.

Crouzel insists that much of Origen’s works, including the Treatise on First Principles which is the basis for much criticism, should be understood as “research theology,” or a theological exercise where many theological questions are pursued and various answers on both sides of the question are proposed and most often not resolved (167). Such a method is all the more understandable in the third century when many theological questions had not been worked out to their full extent by the Church. Origen has been misunderstood when fragments or sections of his writings are taken out of this pedagogical context and considered as dogmatic statements of his firm beliefs. These misunderstandings on the part of both his followers (Origenists of the fourth and sixth centuries) and critics (Jerome, Justinian, and the Constantinopolitan Council of 453) have overshadowed the significant portions of his theology in favor of ostracizing him over a few aberrant or inconclusive views, such as the pre-existence of souls or a universal restoration, for which Origen seems to have hoped while not insisting upon it. A more thorough study of primary sources, as Crouzel has undertaken, reveals that for his time Origen is orthodox on most points, including the Trinity, which had yet to be defined by the Arian controversy. In that controversy, in fact, Athanasius recognizes Origen as the source of the crucial phrase, “there was not when he was not,” in reference to the eternal generation of the Son (172, 268). Thus, a genuine history of doctrines must not disregard the value of Origen’s early expressions of theology simply because some of his ideas seem to contradict what was later more carefully defined and articulated.

Girl Meets God: A Memoir by Lauren F. Winner

Life happens, and it's been happening in a big way around here, so I haven't been reading as much or as quickly as I would wish. But I don't really regret having taken my time reading Girl Meets God because it is a book that is best pondered and savored.

Lauren Winner came to faith in Christ after being raised in a Reformed Jewish synagogue and then converting to Orthodox Judaism because "[n]o other way to parse Judaism made much sense. If the Torah was true, then we should spend all our time reading it, and all our life living by it" (43). But within a few years, she became captivated by the incarnation, awestruck by the fact that God became flesh, and converted to Christianity, specifically of the Anglican/Episcopalian variety. Interestingly enough, I started thinking that Lauren's writing style reminded me of Madeleine L'Engle's Crosswick Journals, and in the very next chapter, Lauren revealed that she attends the same Episcopal church in NYC that L'Engle did.

I can identify with many aspects of Lauren's personality - her bookishness, her dislike of recess, her love for study and complete immersion in a topic - but her spiritual journey is completely different from my experience. Even though I'm not in the same place and don't agree with her on some points, I'm really glad to have read of her experiences and the insights on faith and theology that she draws from such a unique background.

Lauren juxtaposes the Jewish and Christian calendars to create the structure of the memoir, and this allows her to trace her journeys in each faith as well as compare and contrast elements of these two biblical faiths. For instance, she links the Jewish high holy day of Yom Kippur with the Christian practice of confession of sins. On Yom Kippur the Jews confess a long list of sins, of which the particulars they may not be guilty, but which a rabbi enjoins, "If you understood the glory and grandeur of God, you would realize you had committed each of these sins, every day of your life." Thus, as a Christian, Lauren concludes:

Confession makes sense to me because it is incarnational. In the sacraments, the Holy Spirit uses stuff to sanctify us. In the Eucharist He uses bead and wine, and in confirmation He uses oil and in baptism He uses water. In confession, the stuff He uses is another person. In that way, confession teaches us about the Incarnation all over again. . .Here, in confession, God is connecting us to Himself not through bread or oil or water or wine, but through another broken body, one who absolves you, and then says, "Go in peace, and pray for me, a sinner." (214-215)

As an intellectual and a historian, Lauren is at once more modern and more grounded in tradition than your typical evangelical. There is a subtle undercurrent of feminism that runs throughout her story (both ethically and vocationally), and she makes an aside comment in favor of Darwin (105). In that sense, perhaps her adoption of evangelical theology has not entirely encompassed her worldview, in spite of her intent to be logically consistent.

Her brief historical description of tattoos (154-155) as used by Christian pilgrims to mark their identity with Christ (Galatians 6), made me almost ready to go get one. But then her account of a holocaust survivor's tattoo shocked me back to a stark, unromantic reality. It is this thorough understanding of her Jewish heritage and her Christian adoption that that can jolt us evangelicals out of our complacency and primly pious attitudes. In describing celebrating the Passover seder as a Christian, she reflects:

We see in the three pieces of matzot the Trinity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and see that we are taking the middle matzah, and breaking it, and we see that this is the way Jesus' body will break, on the Cross. . .I think, It is we Christians, we, who do this, not the Jews. At the seder, it is so clear: The Jews didn't break his body. Our sins broke his body. Break break break. They didn't kill Him; the weight of our sin killed Him. (172 - This is the spiritual truth, of course, but we cannot ignore the mystery of God's sovereignty and human responsibility described in Acts 2:23)

Finally, I was challenged by the seriousness and sincerity with which she pursues God. She humbles herself not only in the practice of confession, but also by following her priest's counsel to give up reading, yes, reading as a whole, not just certain books, for Lent, because, he said, "I think books would be a gift you could give Christ that would be really meaningful. . ." (124). She does it, not perfectly, but she gives up reading for Lent and learns that reading was her "always-cure. . .a tonic or escape route" (128). She realizes that "[w]hen I am stuck in a puddle of sadness and mistakes, I cannot take them to Mitford. I have to take them to God. I begin to suspect that [my priest] didn't want me to give up reading just because it was the equivalent of some dearly loved green sundress, but because it might move me closer to Jesus. It might move me to my knees" (129). That is profound, powerful, and convicting, especially for a fellow bibliophile!

In This House of Brede by Rumer Godden

Someone once asked me if I'd ever considered converting to Roman Catholicism. It seems another friend of hers had converted, and she wondered if my studies of theology and church history drew me toward the long established traditions of the Roman Catholic Church. Doctrinally, the answer is a definite no, but if it were simply a matter of prayer and piety, monasticism has appealed to me since my first seminary class in Medieval Theology.

In This House of Brede by Rumer Godden revived that fascination for me, but it also put a more realistic face on monasticism (in its modern form) than what I learned from the instructional and theological writings of Medieval monks. Don't think that I'm minimizing historical theology - may it never be! The Medieval authors are definitely worth reading! Anselm of Canterbury is my personal favorite, and St. Anselm: A Portrait in a Landscape is a thorough biography, while Anselm of Canterbury: The Major Works would be an excellent introduction to his primary writings. The Rule of Saint Benedict would also provide a short introduction to the life of prayer which the nuns of Brede followed.

The story of Philippa Talbot provides the linear framework of the novel, tracing her entrance to Brede Abbey as a successful, 40-something, career woman, through her years as a postulant, novice, junior, and fully professed Benedictine nun. I would hesitate, however, to say that it is only Philippa's story. The Abbey is above all a community of prayer, but in that community there is such a variety of women, all with unique gifts and personalities, that it is a framework for both piety and personal growth as iron sharpens iron (read Carrie's post and note the picture for a visual image of this illustration). As various crises affect one or another of the nuns and often the whole Abbey, strengths and weaknesses of character are exposed. I have read few novels in which the author's character development reveals true growth of character in such a wide and varied number of individuals. It is rich indeed.

The beauty of this novel - what makes it a lasting masterpiece - is that its lessons transcend the walls of the abbey, rising above categories of gender and religion, to meet every reader in his or her own unique situation. True community is messy, whether that community is a monastery, a church (Protestant or Catholic), a workplace, or a family. Godden forsakes idealism and shows us the weaknesses of human nature and of human relationships, but not without a hope of redemption.

So am I ready to convert now? No, but with the nuns of Brede Abbey, I will remind my Protestant friends, "We were all Catholics once..." (347). May we not forget that in the history of the Church universal the Roman Catholic Church preserved and extended the Gospel (however imperfectly, as we still do today) for the vast majority of those years. With that Church universal let us boldly proclaim the lines of the Nicene Creed: "And I believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church."

Favorite quotations:
“Tomorrow I shall not be among you any more; not of you but mysteriously still with you, thought Philippa. As Lady Abbess of Brede had said, ‘People think we renounce the world. We don’t. We renounce its ways but we are still very much in it and it is very much in us.’” (15)

“‘Don’t you see, it’s like a pageant. Our Cardinal has said the liturgy entertains as well as feeds us…Yes, we’re not angels but humans,’ said Dame Clare, ‘and human nature is made so that it needs variety. The Church is like a wise mother and has given us this great cycle of the liturgical year with its different words and colours. You’ll see how you will learn to welcome the feast days and the saints’ days as they come round, each with a different story and, as it were, a different aspect; they grow very dear, though still exacting.’” (59-60)

"'I think,' said Dame Maura, lifting her hands, 'that Thomas Aquinas and Johann Sebastian Bach must occupy thrones side by side in heaven.'" (119)

"McTurk surprised her. 'A Solemn Profession isn't touching in the way a Clothing is,' she said when she saw him three days later. . . 'Certainly not,' said McTurk. 'It was awe-ful, full of awe. I know now,' he said, 'at least, have an inkling of what it means to love God with your whole heart and mind and strength.' 'Having seen Him, I love and trust Him. He is the love of my choice,' Philippa had sung, 'until death.' Awe-ful and full of joy - happiness was too light a word - joy that was in the whole monastery that day. . .
"'And now what?' asked McTurk.
"'As far as anyone in the world will know, nothing,' said Philippa. 'No one will hear any more of me; six hours a day in my stall in choir; two perhaps, of manual labor in the house or garden: some time for study; silence: singing prayer: living: room to live. I shall disappear, be almost anonymous. Yes, I have learnt now. No more Philippa Talbot,' she said, glorying. 'Arranging, deciding, settling - that arrogant creature!'
"'Then what will she do?' asked McTurk.
"'Simply grow,' but McTurk's wise monkey-eyes grew quizzical again. 'Difficult to grow without yourself,' said McTurk." (228-229)

Also reviewed by:
The Anchoress
Canticle of Chiara
Happy Catholic (don't be mislead by the quotation from fellow blogger Exultet, who thought Brede was about Anglican nuns instead of Catholics.)
The View from the Foothills

(If you have reviewed In This House of Brede, leave a comment with a link, and I'll add it above.)

Lilith by George MacDonald

I have long loved the novels and poetry of George MacDonald, but it has been years since I have read any of his fantasy works. I don't remember much of The Princess and Curdie, though I do remember where I was when I was reading it - in the back of a bright yellow Volkswagen Rabbit that my dad bought sometime in the early 80's. Those were the days!

Anyway. . . when a fellow book club member mentioned Lilith, it piqued my interest, and I added it to my TBR list. Since we happened to have it on our shelves, it was the first book I picked up for the new year.

I must admit that I found the first half of the book very strange and somewhat confusing. There were plenty of profound statements which added a richness to the narrative, but I just wasn't sure where the story was going. By about half-way through, however, I was able to sort out the good from the bad and better understand the task of the protagonist Mr. Vane. Although the genre of myth is distinct from allegory, I could not help wondering if there were some symbolism in his name. Was Mr. Vane the embodiment of vanity in his willfulness and imagined self-importance, or was his name more suggestive of a weather vane, perhaps, that is blown to and fro by the wind?

This edition has an introduction by C. S. Lewis, who is often quoted by MacDonald fans as saying, "I have never concealed the fact that I regarded MacDonald as my master, indeed I fancy I have never written a book in which I did not quote from him" (from the back cover). Although I have not read the entire corpus of Lewis' works, I could easily find some similarities to characters and ideas in the Chronicles of Narnia. For instance, the evil Lilith is described in terms that reminded me of the White Witch, and there was a reference to "farther in, higher up" that reminded me of The Last Battle.

I'm sure this is a book that I will ponder for a long time, and probably take up to re-read it several times over the years God gives me. Like all myth in its truest sense, that is, stories that resonate with all that is true and right, it is a story that must grow on and in the reader, being absorbed and felt, not merely read. With the very short time of reflection that I have given it, I would suggest that it paints a story around the truth of Matthew 10:39 ~ "Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (ESV).

I found many noteworthy passages, but here are a few of my favorites:

"'In this world never trust a person who has once deceived you. Above all, never do anything such a one may ask you to do.'
'I will try to remember,' I answered; '- but I may forget!'
'Then some evil that is good for you will follow.'
'And if I remember?'
'Some evil that is not good for you, will not follow.'" (conversation between Mr. Raven and Mr. Vane, 95)

"'. . .my human wife plunged herself and me in despair, and has borne me a countless race of miserables; but my Eve repented, and is now beautiful as never was woman or angel, while her groaning, travailing world is the nursery of our Father's children.'" (Mr. Raven's description of Lilith, 148)

"'But another has made you, and can compel you to see what you have made yourself. You will not be able much longer to look to yourself anything but what he sees you! You will not much longer have satisfaction in the thought of yourself.'" (Mara talking to Lilith, 200)

"'I may not be old enough to desire to die, but I am young enough to desire to live indeed! Therefore I go now to learn if she will at length take me in. You wish to die because you do not care to live: she will not open her door to you, for no one can die who does not long to live. . . Ah, then, sir,' I rejoined, 'it is but too plain you have not yet learned to die, and I am heartily grieved for you. Such had I too been but for the Lady of Sorrow. I am indeed young, but I have wept many tears. . .'" (Mr. Vane speaking to an old man, 225)

There are certainly depths to be plumbed on literary, philosophical, and theological levels in this book!

How the Irish Saved Civilization: The Untold Story of Ireland's Heroic Role from the Fall of Rome to the Rise of Medieval Europe by Thomas Cahill

How the Irish Saved Civilization had been on my mental to-be-read list for several years (it was recommended to me by a seminary professor), and I finally found a good reason to read it last August for some Irish background to our book club's September selection Angela's Ashes. I highly recommend it as a very readable introduction to the basic philosophies that have shaped the Western World, European history (particularly the fall of Rome), and Irish history and culture, with a good bit of theology and church history thrown in for good measure, too.

I read this before I started Lines from the Page, but I did record my favorite quotes before I returned it to the library. Since several people commented on this title in my Books Read in 2008 post, I thought I would list some quotes to interest you further. The beautiful poem/hymn, "The Deer's Cry," is also from this book and can be found here.

[all quotations from Cahill, Thomas. How the Irish Saved Civilization: The Untold Story of Ireland’s Heroic Role from the Fall of Rome to the Rise of Medieval Europe. (Nan A Talese/Doubleday: New York: 1995)]

“Without this Service of the Scribes, everything that happened subsequently would have been unthinkable. Without the Mission of the Irish Monks, who single-handedly refounded European civilization throughout the continent in the bays and valleys of their exile, the world that came after them would have been an entirely different one – a world without books.” (4)

“Eleven centuries prior to the encounter on the Rhine, an insignificant band of Latin-speaking farmers ‘had but recently settled down to fixed agriculture and solved the problem of rapidly growing numbers by embarking upon a career of conquest that ultimately eventuated in the Roman empire,’ remarks the contemporary historian William McNeill. ‘Considered in this light, the Roman state in the West was destroyed by the same forces that had created it.’” (18)

“What is about to be lost in the century of the barbarian invasions is literature – the content of classical civilization. Had the destruction been complete – had every library been disassembled and every book burned – we might have lost Homer and Virgil and all of classical poetry, Herodotus and Tacitus and all of classical history, Demosthenes and Cicero and all of classical oratory, Plato and Aristotle and all of Greek philosophy, and Plotinus and Porphyry and all the subsequent commentary. We would have lost the taste and smell of a whole civilization.” (58)

“The works themselves will miraculously escape destruction. But they will enter the new world of the Middle Ages as things so strange they might as well have been left behind by interstellar aliens. One example will suffice to illustrate the strangeness of books to medieval men. The word grammar – the first step in the course of classical study that molded all educated men from Plato to Augustine – will be mispronounced by one barbarian tribe as “glamour.” In other words, whoever has grammar – whoever can read – possess magic inexplicable.” (59-60)

“In becoming an Irishman, Patrick wedded his world to theirs, his faith to their life…Patrick found a way of swimming down to the depths of the Irish psyche and warming and transforming Irish imagination – making it more humane and more noble while keeping it Irish.” (116)

“The difference between Patrick’s magic and the magic of the druids is that in Patrick’s world all beings and events come from the hand of a good God, who loves human beings and wishes them success. And though that success is of an ultimate kind – and, therefore, does not preclude suffering – all nature, indeed the whole of the created universe, conspires to mankind’s good, teaching, succoring, and saving.” (131)

“It seems that as some point in the development of every culture, human sacrifice becomes unthinkable, and animals are from then on substituted for human victims…At all events, the Irish had not reached this point and were still sacrificing human beings to their gods when Patrick began his mission…Patrick declared that such sacrifices were no longer needed. Christ has died once for all…Yes, the Irish would have said, here is a story that answers our deepest needs – and answers them in a way so good that we could never even have dared dream of it. We can put away our knives and abandon our altars. These are no longer required. The God of the Three Faces has given us his own Son, and we are washed clean in the blood of this lamb. God does not hate us; he loves us. Greater love than this no man has than that he should lay down his life for his friends. That is what God’s Word, made flesh, did for us. From now on, we are all sacrifices – but without the shedding of blood. It is our lives, not our deaths that this God wants. But we are to be sacrifices, for Paul adds to the hymn this advice to all: ‘Let this [same] mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus.’ (136, 140-142)

That's probably enough to give you a taste of this richly informative book. Find it. Read it. Enrich your mind!