fifth row baptists

Hello friends! A sleepy Sunday post is in order, methinks. And as matter of fact, I think this post shall be mostly just me rambling about books. Because of aforesaid mentioned sleepiness, I don’t think this shall be a long post. But as always, we shall see! Be well, one and all.

53. Thank You, Jeeves by PG Wodehouse. Absolutely fantastic. I have heard of Wodehouse and the Jeeves stories before, of course. I knew they were a part of the British literary canon that I was remiss in reading and that I would need to remedy such at some point. Thankfully, due to a fortuitous encounter in a remarkably well-stocked book section at a Goodwill, I decided it was time to read my first Wodehouse and this was it. I was not disappointed. The humour was top notch. Of course humour is subjective and I’m sure some would bounce off Wodehouse. For me though? Perfection. I wish I had half the wit and verve of Wodehouse – I’d read line after line of writing that simply crackled with absurd hilarity and wonder how on earth he managed it. If you like absurd off-the-wall ridiculousness married with near-perfect prose, I think you’d enjoy this. I know I did.

54. The Holiness of God by R.C. Sproul – A book that grabs you by the collar and simply won’t let go. I’ve read this once, many years before, and I recall how much this one gripped and shook me. Reading it again now, I marveled anew at the holiness, grandeur and glory of God. I am grateful for this book of Sproul’s, one that does not apologize for the God of the Bible, the God who is proclaimed in all its pages and of whom creation shouts in chorus. Sproul is unapologetic in ascribing a place to God that is far separate from the place reserved for the rest of creation. This book feels at times as if it was written in a time so different from our own, a time when the other-ness of God was not as alien a concept as it seems to be in this age in which we now live. Of course this book wasn’t written that long ago – 1985 – still yet it seems as if the God Sproul preaches would be anathema to the majority of so-called Christian teachers in this day and age.

We at times seem to spend all our time crafting a God that fits our idea of goodness, justice and love – a God that we feel comfortable with and whose ideals mirror our own. This is idolatry, pure and simple, and Sproul calls that out. He doesn’t quite wade into all the depths of ontology and epistemology, yet Sproul does ask that we cease from demanding that God can only be God if he fits our pre-conceived notions of what God ought to be. How often have we heard or uttered the phrase – “I could never worship a God who…” Instead of screaming our rights into the void, perhaps we ought ask the question – Is God real? And if so, who is He? And what is my response? This is spadework and not always comfortable. And I’m not saying Sproul is hand-holding us through this journey. Instead, Sproul simply and faithfully discusses the God of the Bible, the God as revealed in both specific and general revelation, and explains who this God is and why he is worthy of our worship.

At the end of the day, the way we live our life is governed by who we see God to be and who we see ourselves to be. And Sproul clearly and concisely draws back the curtain and shows us the tiniest of glimpses of the reality of the God who made all things. Sproul is just a man and all too fallible and so of course this book is not perfect. Yet it is one that drove me to my knees as I consider what it is that I live and breathe in a world made by a God so utterly holy that to gaze upon Him would utterly undo me. Who am I, a jar of clay and oh so foul and depraved? And yet also am I not one crafted in the image of this God I long to know? There’s a mystery there – how can I be made right and gain communion with this God who seems so far from me? Has God spoken to us and given us a way to be right with Him? The name that is above every name is spoken by my heart and I tremble. I raise my hands and drop any claims I have and bow the knee to the One who made all things. This book is one that I need to read again and again. God is God and I am not. Remember this. Remember this.

55. What Does It Mean to Fear the Lord? by Michael Reeves. A wonderful little pamphlet walking us through the concept of the “fear of the Lord”. This can be very confusing, to be sure. I’ve had conversations with people who refuse to believe that Christians should “fear the Lord”. And part of that is likely due to the inability of the English language to properly define this concept, this idea of trembling joy and awe and love that comes face to face with understanding who God is and what our proper response to Him is. This is a very little book, but Reeves does a masterful job of walking through what fear of God is, and what it isn’t. The fear of the Lord is not a cringing fear that drives us from God in our hatred of who he is. Instead, the proper fear of the Lord is a recognition of the nature of God and the proper response of humility and love that draws us closer to our God. I feel this is a ongoing thread in my reading of late but I shall state it again. God is God and I am not. Let us remember that, and as we understand ever more who God truly is, our fear of Him will be that fear which spurs on a delighted awe and love as we humbly bow before our Creator. A great little read, heartily recommended.

56. Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. This book frustrated me at times. There are some beautiful little moments and I greatly admired the themes of the author and what he attempted to point towards. It is rare to find a modern book which preaches such themes of Christian love and humility and it made me glad to see such praised in this book. There is also such a wonderful focus on the worth of every person and the idea that all of us have a story that is worth knowing. I was under the impression this was a secular book and was pleasantly surprised discovering the Christian themes that lay at this book’s core, even identifying Theo as a little Christ-figure and one who attempts to point us to that light, that fountain, that Jesus that is the only source of life and truth. Yet. Apart from all that, this book was a hard read at times. I admire the author’s aims, but the book wasn’t always an easy read, at times overly twee, at times overly artificial and manufactured. This felt like a book with too many cardboard cutouts, not enough real people. I often found myself struggling to make myself read a few more chapters. And the major revelation at the end of this book does some major damage to the book’s theme of selfless love for the other and make one wonder if the author truly realize that his attempts to tie up all loose ends into a tidy knot actually undercut some of the strongest themes of his tale. Ah well. I enjoyed parts of this book. Unfortunately the book wasn’t particularly well-written and I think at times the author spends too much time telling, not enough time showing. Maybe some people like the didactic hammering on the head. For me, not so much, even when I tend to agree with the author’s belief system. Main problem at the end of the day? The author’s skill was not quite up to snuff to tell the story he was attempting to tell. Still though, I admire the attempt.

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