White Horse Inn Blog

Know what you believe and why you believe it

(Late) Summer Reading–Esther Lightcap Meek

(Esther L. Meek is Professor of Philosophy at Geneva College, and Instructor of Apologetics at Redeemer Theological Seminary. Her 2003 Longing to Know: The Philosophy of Knowledge for Ordinary People (Brazos) is a book for people considering Christianity who have questions about how we know anything at all. Her 2011 book, Loving to Know: Introducing Covenant Epistemology (Cascade), proposes the interpersonal covenantal relationship as the paradigm for all human knowing. A third book is forthcoming.)

Esther Lightcap MeekMy daughter, Starr, names seasons. She names seasons, and her friends and I live into the theme she has designated. This summer is the “Summer of Beauty.” So I took it as all the reason I needed to start through David Bentley Hart’s The Beauty of the Infinite. The book makes me feel as if my whole life has been preparation for this event. And it catches up all of my life in its exuberant toccata on the theme of the Holy Trinity.

I’ve had a glorious late-afternoon-on-the-deck reading regimen this summer: along with Hart, I have dipped daily into Aquinas’ Summa Theologiae (for an upcoming class); John Paul II’s Man and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body (a Christmas present); Roger Lundin’s biography of Emily Dickinson, The Art of Belief(for a faculty seminar); Gascoigne and Thornton, Tacit Knowledge (for a book review); Dostoyevsky’s Brothers K (for “pleasure”…(sigh)). But Hart’s Beauty has crowned and caught them up, too.

I half-understand what Hart says! All my years in philosophy have been vindicated in reading this book, even as they prove inadequate. All my years as a Christian believer have just opened out onto splendor, even as Hart has revealed the poverty of my experience hitherto. I have been, shall we say, surfing in high seas, tumbling off regularly, bowled over by mammoth waves, nevertheless happily splashing about. I feel that death would be, not so much “but my entrance into glory,” as Bach writes, so much as a slight adjustment of the frequency on my reality monitor (my radio-repairing dad’s hypothesis): glory is already near—very near.

Exuberance aside, in a short effort at coherence: Hart’s is a work in theological aesthetics, following up the work of Hans Urs von Balthazar. He argues that Christianity, with its unique doctrine of the Holy Trinity, alone espouses a view of ultimate reality that is both infinite and beautiful, where shalom really is the ultimate real. Other philosophies generallyThe Beauty of the Infinite posit chaos or violence as ultimately real, with all human efforts toward logos and order developed in opposition to it. These warring opposites are always about power and totalizing, absolute, control. But the Christian Trinity, with its eternal dance of love and gift, mutuality and particularity, ever creative of new possibilities—all of this externalized in the rhetorical analogy of creation—ensconces and ensures harmony of one and many from all eternity. Shalom need never be wrested, ultimately, from violence or chaos, for it is original. Infinite distance and infinite variety need never be feared (contra Jorge Borges), for it is beauty—God himself. What we must do is resist persistently the totalizing forces of modern (and postmodern) Western thought and culture, and their adverse effects in our lives and theology, with the exuberance of the good news of Jesus Christ, who retells and reinscribes the story of reality. “If thou wilt foil thy foes with joy, then flit not from this Heavenly Boy!”—the words of poet Robert Southwell.

If you found that last paragraph half-understandable but tantalizing, I have succeeded in giving you a taste of the book. I have also, hopefully, indicated why Hart’s text itself must be ever-new sentence after ever-new sentence, seemingly to joyous infinity. With the fall semester just around the corner, I don’t have much prospect of finishing the book. But I anticipate with joy another summers of surfing until—well, maybe I’ll just keep rereading it. It probably won’t matter what the season gets named; that theme will prove to have been original with God, too.

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(Late) Summer Reading–John Bombaro

(Rev. John J. Bombaro (Ph.D., King’s College, University of London) is the parish minister at Grace Lutheran Church in San Diego, California and a lecturer in theology and religious studies at the University of San Diego.  He’s a frequent contributor to Modern Reformation.) 

John BombaroWhat book are you reading right now?

I have made a good choice with my present read: Craig A. Evans, Jesus and His World: The Archeological Evidence (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2012). Evans has distinguished himself as an internationally recognized expert on New Testament studies and always has something new, something insightful to say about the biblical text. This time he does so through a book that collates salient information from the realm of archeology that has immediate bearing on the historicity of Jesus and the accuracy of the New Testament witness.

Why’d you chose it?

In looking for a reliable author and text that would be accessible and informative to my University of San Diego students taking an introductory level class called “Christianity and Its Practice”, Evans immediately came to mind due to his orthodoxy and devotion to Christ. Jesus and His World will be highly accessible and convincing for neophytes to Christianity and those indoctrinated by pop pessimism about the Bible.

Jesus and His World

What’s the best part about the book so far?

The best parts of the book are (1) when Craig gentlemanly disabuses agendist pseudo-scholarship that casts aspersions on the historical Jesus and (2) his inclusion of thirty-nine photos of major archeological finds that visually substantiate the author’s explanations of their significance.

 

What’s the worst part about the book so far?

Negatively, the back cover says almost nothing about the content of this winning book. It would be easily glossed over in a bookstore. Thankfully, Evans’ name is easily recognizable so that a gem like this isn’t missed.

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(Late) Summer Reading–Anthony Parisi

(Anthony Parisi is an independent filmmaker and online editor-in-chief for Houston Baptist University’s Cinema & New Media Arts.)

Anthony ParisiWhat are you reading right now?

I have been reading several books this summer but the most noteworthy by far has been Matthew Lee Anderson’s new book, The End of Our Exploring: A Book About Questioning and the Confidence of Faith. It is a deeply thoughtful and stimulating work about (you guessed it), questioning and the confidence of faith. In the author’s words, the book is “chiefly concerned to explore whether we can question well and what such questioning might look like.” (pg. 12)  What moves us to ask a question? What sort of answer would it take to move us to give up our questions? What happens when we question? Are questioning and doubt the same thing? The End of Our Exploring asks good questions, questions us as readers, and urges everyone to learn the art of questioning well.

 

 

 

“… if the young question most, the wise question best. The art of questioning takes a lifetime to perfect, for the most interesting questions flow from a deep well of insights. The more we understand, the more fine-grained our awareness of the negative spaces will be. The more we learn about the world, the more we will realize how much more there is to know, if we will only remember our ignorance and continue noticing the negative spaces. Those who have learned best and longest will explore hidden nooks and corners that those of us starting out cannot begin to imagine. The wise have seen negative spaces that only well-trained eyes are strong enough to detect. “ (pg. 21)

End of Our Exploring

Why did you pick this particular book?

Matt is a fellow alumnus of Biola University and while I don’t know him personally, his blog Mere Orthodoxyhas been favorite reading of mine for quite some time now. Reading him and other bright graduates of Biola’s Torrey Honors Institute should be enough to convince anyone that rumors of evangelicalism’s death may be greatly exaggerated. If you want to find the best and brightest from an evangelical institution you need look no further.  More personally, the subject resonates with me very deeply. As a child of postmodernity and surrounded by our default, cultural cynicism that’s obviously no surprise. But I do feel all of these questions at a gut level. My analytical mind can needlessly torture itself by questioning (badly!) and I’ve come to see how sin in my own life can distort serious thinking. As a young adult, there are also faces and relationships now attached to all these of issues. I have watched childhood friends make shipwreck of the faith and abandon Christ. The subject is a weighty one. A proper reverence and seriousness toward questioning is one of the strongest qualities of this book.

“The man who asks whether God’s mercy allows for justice may be asking a sincere question and faithfully opening himself to the creative destruction of his own false ideas or to a deepened understanding of his true ones. His questioning may be rooted in love and aimed at his growth. Or he may be clinging to the final vestiges of his rebellion, making a final desperate stand against the holiness of God. Or he may be merely playing a game, reducing God to an abstraction for his own intellectual satisfaction. These possibilities and countless others stand beneath every inquiry that we make.  How can we tell if our questions are subverting the healthy confidence that we or others have in God? How do we know if we have deceived ourselves into believing we are “just questioning” rather than expressing our hostility against God, a hostility that may even be hidden from ourselves? That such self-deceived rationalizations of our questions are a possibility should be enough to give us pause. It is a serious thing we undertake, this exploring.  There can be no “merely” or “just” of our questioning. Such qualifiers indicate that we think our inquiries are somehow exempt from sin and temptation. It would be convenient to think that our questions are immune from the fundamental conflict of right and wrong, that they are quarantined from the possibility of confession and repentance. But the first moment of questioning well is the recognition that as a human endeavor, our questioning is fallen and broken, entangled with sin and in need of reformation. We should be wary of affording to ourselves a cheap grace that cordons off a crucial area of our lives from our responsibility before God.” (pg. 35)

 

What’s the best thing about it so far?

As I read through the book I’m impressed at how well Matt explores our cultural climate and responds to it. This book could resonate with anyone. The universality of the subject and his careful nuance should prove thought-provoking for both ardent conservative and progressive skeptic. I’ve had to resist highlighting every line of the perceptive chapter “On Doubt and What Doubt Isn’t.”

Faith is not fundamentalism—nor is doubt the same as questioning. While the tendency is to react to fundamentalism by embracing doubt, I think it is important to not replace one problem with another. What we should pursue is a confident faith that questions and questions well, not the vague instability of doubt that replaces the overweening certainty of fundamentalism. (pg. 50-51)

He argues that “conflating doubt and questioning is one of the chief confusions of our age” and that faith “does not close off questioning—it reforms and orients it. It is not the bunker mentality of fundamentalism, which shuts down inquiry because it is afraid. Faith seeks understanding, and the form of its seeking is the questions that it asks within the life of the practices of the church.” (pg. 51)  Undergirding all of the book is a high view of church authority and Scripture that is crucial to the way Matt articulates the place of questioning in the Christian life. This may be the most counter-cultural feature of the book (even for many professing Christians). It enables him to illustrate a healthy way of questioning and reasoning in the church without resorting to individualism or undermining church structure. Christians in Reformation traditions will especially appreciate a shout-out to the recovery of catechesis as “one of the most hopeful signs for Christians interested in cultivating their ability to question and live into the answers.” (pg. 79)  The book also has a warmth and generous tone that we can all learn from in our questioning and engagement with others. There is a generous spirit of catholicity coupled with winsome conviction. The End of Our Exploring doesn’t just tell us how to question well but truly embodies it. I can’t recommend it enough.

 

What’s the worst thing about it so far?

Nothing is coming to mind, so I suspect this may be a bad question. Here’s a better one: have you bought the book yet?

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(Late) Summer Reading–Nancy Guthrie

(Nancy Guthrie is the author of O Love That Will Not Let Me Go and the Seeing Jesus in the Old Testament Bible study series (www.seeingjesusintheoldtestament.com)  In addition to teaching opportunities at her church, Christ Presbyterian Church in Nashville, Nancy speaks regularly at conferences and events around the country.)

Nancy GuthrieWhat are you reading right now?

My stack of books has three categories—the books for my current seminary class, books I’m reading for my current writing project on the prophets, and the manuscripts I’m reading for endorsement requests. I’ve gotten to read several terrific books in the biblical theology category over recent weeks from this endorsement request stack including David Murray’s forthcoming Jesus on Every Page (Thomas Nelson, August release), and Jim Hamilton’s What is Biblical Theology? (Crossway, November release), as well as Name Above All Names by Sinclair Ferguson and Alistair Begg (Crossway).   I have to admit that I laughed out loud at the absurdity of the publishing process when I received the request from the publisher to consider offering an endorsement for Begg and Ferguson’s book. These are two of my most respected mentors-from-afar in regard to handling and communicating the scriptures with a sense of the big story of the Bible. They are also two of my favorite people. So when I received the request my thought was that while they have little to gain from my endorsement, I am quite sure I have plenty to gain from reading this book.  Since this was a book I knew I would want to read as soon as I got my hands on it, I was glad to get to read it in advance. However, I read it quickly in its manuscript stage in the press of other projects. So I’ve been glad to have some time to work through it more slowly and thoughtfully now that the printed book is in my hands.

 

Why’d you pick that book?

I grew up in Sunday School and have studied the Bible most of my life. But it wasn’t until recently that I began to listen to preachers like Ferguson and Begg who present the scriptures with a sense of the Bible as one grand story of God’s redemption of all things through Christ. My own publishing projects over the past five years have been my way of re-orienting the way I read and understand the Old Testament, moving away from using the characters and situations of the Old Testament as moral or faith lessons and instead seeing the beauty of the person and work of Christ throughout. I’ve learned a lot, but I still have plenty to learn—not only about how to understand these things in the scriptures, but also how to communicate them clearly and simply to others, which is just what this book does like few others.

 

What’s the best part of the book so far?Name Above All Names

While the presentation of the person and work of Christ in these short seven chapters is profound and fresh, it is also personal and easy-to-follow. Its chapters trace Jesus as presented in the scriptures as Seed of the Woman, True Prophet, Great High Priest, Conquering King, Son of Man, Suffering Servant, and the Lamb on the Throne. And while the scholarship is sound, it is never technical. This is a book I could give to someone who has never heard of biblical theology and when they finished they would have a sound sense of biblical theology without ever hearing the intimidating term. And while reading the book would cause them to think about the story of the Bible in new ways, mostly it would call them to worship the God of the Bible.  One of many “Aha!” experiences for me came early in the book in the chapter about Jesus Christ as the Seed of the Woman, which says that Adam was created to be the gardener, but that he failed. It then goes to the resurrection of Christ when Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and didn’t recognize the resurrected Christ, “supposing him to be the gardener” (John 20:15). The book reads: “The gardener? Yes, indeed. He is the Gardener. He is the second Man, the last Adam, who is now beginning to restore the garden.” While certainly I had seen the garden at the beginning and ending of the story of the Bible, I had never before seen Christ as the Gardener, there in the center of the story, beginning his work to restore and renew. But I won’t forget it.

 

What’s the worst part of the book so far?

I have only one beef with the way Begg and Ferguson put the book together. I don’t know for sure which one to credit with this brilliant Gardener insight and so many others throughout the book. They don’t identify themselves as to who is speaking and so refer to people they both knew, and experiences they both had, using phrases such as, ‘in one of our churches” and “one of our children.” Because these two pastors each have so much wit and personality, their own charming humor, and of course their own unique experiences and acquaintances, every time I came across one of these personal references I would have preferred to know who was speaking. But I suppose it helps that even though I don’t know who is speaking, I can hear the same accent in my head. More than that I recognized the same love for Christ and ability to call to me, as the reader, to see Christ in all of his sufficiency and to love him with all of my heart.

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(Late) Summer Reading–James K. A. Smith

(James K.A. Smith is professor of philosophy at Calvin College where he holds the Gary & Henrietta Byker Chair in Applied Reformed Theology and Worldview.  He is the author of a number of books including Letters to a Young Calvinist: An Invitation to the Reformed Tradition and, most recently, Imagining the Kingdom: How Worship Works.  He also serves as the editor of Comment magazine.)

James-K_A_-SmithWhat book are you reading right now?

I’ve finally moved James Bratt’s biography, Abraham Kuyper: Modern Calvinist, Christian Democrat (Eerdmans, 2013) to the top of the stack.  I’m not sure that Jim ever envisioned this as a “beach read,” but in fact I enjoyed reading it while decamped on the gorgeous sands of Grand Haven, Michigan, our very own “west coast.”  That I eventually dozed off is no commentary on Bratt’s prose, which is far from soporific.

Why’d you choose that particular book?

As a member of the Christian Reformed Church and a Christian scholar at Calvin College, an institution nourished by Kuyper’s legacy, reading this book is pretty much an occupational requirement.  But like the law of love, it is a happy obligation!  Abraham Kuyper was a remarkable individual whose life makes for a compelling story: a convert from bland liberalism, he went on to become an influential pastor, newspaper editor, theologian, and statesman (serving as Prime Minister of the Netherlands from 1901-1905).  My own thought is deeply indebted to Kuyper and his heirs, but I knew the ideas and not the man.  But my interest is not just antiquarian or a biographical fascination: I’m also intrigued to see how a Christian like Kuyper operated in the public sphere—a public sphere that was increasingly secularized and pluralized, and thus beginning to look more and more like the world we currently inhabit.  I’m intrigued to see if there are lessons to be learned here, including lessons to be learned from Kuyper’s failures.

Abraham-Kuyper

What’s the best part about it so far?

Well, first and foremost, I have to say that Bratt’s prose is lively and engaging, characterized by a verve and wit that he exhibits in person as well.  One of Jim’s best friends, the film scholar Bill Romanowski, recommended that Bratt organize the biography like a screenplay, and I think that’s reflected in the book’s dramatic pace.  Second, Bratt’s mastery of the archival materials is remarkable.  For example, Bratt goes back to early sermons and captures their key themes in ways that bring Kuyper to life beyond his published legacy.  But I also love it that at the same time he draws on Kuyper’s love letters to his fiancée, then wife, Jo.  As Bratt puts it, “Father Abraham” was a romantic in more ways than one.  Finally, so far I have learned the most from Bratt’s ability to locate Kuyper in the social, political, and intellectual context of 19th century Europe.  It is far too easy to read someone like Kuyper anachronistically, reading him as if we were just a contemporary American.  Bratt’s biography is an important antidote to that.

 

What’s the worst part about it so far?

I don’t think I’ve encountered a “worst part” so far.  I would just say this: I can already feel a certain theoretical frame that Bratt brings to the story of which I am a tad suspicious.  I’m just a little worried that the “true” heirs of Kuyper are going to be progressives, whereas “right wingers” (as Bratt puts it, gratingly) are going to turn out to be unenlightened repristinators.  I’m suspending judgment until I’m finished the book, but I’m on the lookout for an interpretive frame that might load the dice just a bit.

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