Review: Travels with Charley in Search of America

Travels with Charley: In Search of America, John Steinbeck. New York: Penguin Classics, 2012 (originally published in 1962).

Summary: John Steinbeck’s memoir of his 1960 roadtrip in his truck/camper Rocinante with his French poodle Charley.

It was 1960. Richard Nixon and John Kennedy were in a race for president. Highways from town to town were being replaced by high speed Interstate highways. The South was in deep conflict over desegregation. Mass media was expanding its impact on the culture. And John Steinbeck was aging. His son, Thom, said Steinbeck knew he had the heart condition from which he would die in 1968. And he wanted to see the America that had been the backdrop of his stories one more time,

So he bought a 3/4 ton truck on which a custom camper top was installed with bed, stove, lights, and facilities and dubbed his vehicle “Rocinante,” after Don Quixote’s mount. One wonders if he thought this journey quixotic in nature. He sets out from New York City north to Maine, across New England and New York, along the south of the Great Lakes through the Midwest, across the northern states all the way to Washington, down to California including revisiting his old stomping ground, trekking across the Southwest, through Texas, stopping in New Orleans during a desegregation crisis which he witnesses, across the South, up through Virginia, and New Jersey and back home.

Accompanying him is his faithful old companion, his ten year old French poodle, Charley, who would go “Ffft” when Steinbeck was too slow to take him out. One of the most endearing parts of this work was the bond between them, often evoking some of the strongest emotions Steinbeck has throughout–contempt for the government bureaucracy that wouldn’t allow them to cut through Canada without Charley’s inoculation papers, surprise at Charley’s fierceness when they spot grizzlies, anger at a veterinarian whose indifference to Charley’s bladder problems, frustration at Charley’s lack of interest in the greatest of the redwoods, and warm affection for another vet who cared for his old dog. As the title suggests, Charley is perhaps the main character in this memoir besides Steinbeck himself.

Steinbeck remarks the changes that have occurred throughout the country. He speaks of the massive growth of the cities, which he tries generally to avoid (one exception is Minneapolis, and the nuclear evacuation route he followed, reflecting on the traffic jams that would have made this route worthless). He describes listening to jukeboxes, where the same songs were #1 wherever you went, a harbinger of the growth of mass culture. He remarks on the odd phenomenon of the reticence of people to talk about the presidential election.

Christian Smith has described American religion as “moral therapeutic deism.” Steinbeck noted this even in the 1960’s as he traveled across the country, contrasting what he found in one Vermont church with what he found elsewhere:

“For some years now God has been a pal to us, practicing togetherness, and that causes the same emptiness a father does playing softball with his son. But this Vermont God cared enough about me to go to a lot of trouble kicking the hell out of me. He put my sins in a new perspective…I wasn’t a a naughty child but a first rate sinner, and I was going to catch it” (p. 61).

Steinbeck said he felt so revived he put $5 in the offering plate and commented of the pastor: “He forged a religion designed to last, not predigested obsolescence.”

These larger observations of society alternate with personal encounters, many at breakfast counters across the country, taciturn in New England and more voluble as he entered the Midwest. Then there is the very human encounter with a property manager who informed Steinbeck that he was trespassing, and as they talk and share some coffee with something added, the manager shows him a place to park and takes him fishing. Like so many, they saw Steinbeck’s camper, and wanted to be him.

In the end, Steinbeck wanted to get home. Something seemed to change once he reached California. Spotting coyotes he could have easily taken down and done others a favor, he cannot. He witnesses the viciousness of white women (the cheerladies) when a little black girl tries to integrate a school in Louisiana. Encounters with two hitchhikers, one white, one black underscore the deep racial divide of the time. Strikingly, the black man fears him, and gets out before reaching his destination, preferring walking to fear.

Getting lost, being misdirected and directed runs through the narrative. Even back in New York City, he requires directions from a policeman to make it home. One senses that it is a lost man who is in search of America with his dog. And what did he find? In his own words, “I do know this–the big and mysterious America is bigger than I thought. And more mysterious.”

I have to admit, the older I get, the more I find myself in agreement with Steinbeck. All the things I thought I knew about the country, I know no longer. What I thought I knew has become mysterious. And I find myself longing more and more for people like that Vermont preacher. Someone needs to kick the hell out of us.

Review: Bird By Bird

Bird By Bird, Anne Lamott. New York: Anchor Books, 1994.

Summary: Anne Lamott’s advice to her writing students, basically, “almost every single thing I know about writing.”

Anne Lamott grew up around a father who wrote. She learned, along with prisoners he taught, to put a little down on a piece of paper every day, and to read lots of great books and plays and that we all have a lot in us to share. She started doing this as a schoolgirl and never stopped. Her second grade teacher read a poem she wrote about John Glenn and she won an award. She’d sit with her dad and write poems. Eventually she learned that she was good at stories and funny. She wrote sophomoric material as a sophomore but she heeded her dad’s counsel: “Do it every day for a while. Do it as you would do scales on a piano. Do it by prearrangement with yourself. Do it as a debt of honor. And make a commitment to finishing things.” It might be that this is some of the best writing advice in a book chock full of Lamott’s earthy, practical, and funny advice.

Basically, according to Lamott, if you want to be a writer, you need to write. In the first part, she talks about basic steps to getting started. If nothing else, write about your childhood–everything you can remember and sit down and do it at the same time every day–struggling with the voices that say you can’t do this. One of her exercises is to write about school lunches–we’ve all got those memories. It’s not time yet to think about agents and publishing. It’s time to work on writing. She advises starting with short assignments, what you can see through a “one inch picture frame.” This is where “bird by bird” comes from. When her brother was stymied by a report on birds, her father told him, “Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.” She also advises writing without reining yourself in, which means “shitty first drafts” (a phrase that recurs more than a few times–Lamott’s way of keeping it real). Perfectionism is the enemy, like a muscle cramp that keeps us from moving freely.

For writing fiction, she advises getting to know your characters and the plot will emerge. Avoid plot devices and shortcuts that lose your reader’s trust. Write dialogue by which your characters are recognizable and realize that writing dialect is hard writing and hard on readers. She describes the moment she broke down when her editor told her her book didn’t work, and the meeting the next day where she made the case for her book, told him all the stuff she’d forgotten to put down, the thoughts she had about how she could solve the problems in the plot. He said “thank you” and asked her to write that book, beginning with a chapter by chapter plot treatment of what she had just told him. It became her greatest novel. And she talks about knowing when you are done.

She talks about the writing frame of mind–attentiveness, understanding the moral point of view of a piece, learning to rely on intuition, and learning to breathe and align ourselves with the work rather than listening to the station in our heads–KFKD. She offers tips of things along the way, from carrying index cards to scribble down things we may need in a story–a line of dialogue, a memory recalled, a simple occurrence in the grocery story–calling around to find someone who knows what the wire thing on top of a champaign bottle is called, finding writing groups and those who read your drafts. For writing block, she suggests just trying to write one page of anything–even those childhood memories–and wait. She wraps up the book talking about publication, and what she calls “her last class” which not only has some funny advice about avoiding libel but a wonderful description of the pleasures of the writing life.

Lamott, as in all her books can be funny, profane, transcendent, and serious, sometimes within the space of a few sentences. Some of the most moving passages are those where she talks about her friend Pam, who died of cancer, and what Pam taught her about life and writing. She gives us a sense of that mysterious drive to write, because we can’t not write, the hard work and the great joys of writing. One also has the sense as you read Lamott, that writing opens one up to something bigger, the grandeur and tragedy, the serious and silly things, the morality and meaning of a life well-lived, and how we all fall short of it. And it all starts with short assignments, shitty first drafts, and bird by bird.

Review: The Psychology of Christian Nationalism

The Psychology of Christian Nationalism, Pamela Cooper-White. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2022.

Summary: A discussion of the rise of Christian nationalism in the United States, why people are drawn to it, and how to talk across the divide when one differs from those who embrace some form of Christian nationalism.

Beginning with the election of 2016, there has been a rise in what is termed “Christian nationalism,” fusing Christian hopes for national renewal with a movement setting out to restore “American greatness.” What is seen from within as a type of revival movement or a return to what is believed to have been lost to progressivism is perceived as a disturbing authoritarian and idolatrous movement with connections to white supremacism. What is more painful is that this movement divides families, friends, and churches, as well as the broader fabric of the nation. Deep differences with those close to us may lead to harsh words and estranged relationships.

What is this movement and why are people drawn to it? And how ought we (if we are able) to have conversations across these divides? These are the questions Pamela Cooper-White sets out to discuss in this book. She begins by discussing what Christian nationalism is, an overview of the history of its rise, and how this differs from patriotism. Cooper-White cites this definition: “Simply put, Christian nationalism is a cultural framework–a collection of myths, traditions, symbols, narratives, and value systems–that idealizes and advocates a fusion of Christianity with American civic life” (p. 13). She traces the rise of these ideas within white evangelicalism and the growing focus on “redeeming God’s chosen nation.” While patriotism is simply love for one’s country, “nationalism is the identification of that country with a historically dominant ethic, cultural, and/or religious group and a fierce loyalty to protecting that national identity” (p. 25).

Chapter two, the longest part of this work, focuses on why people are drawn in to Christian nationalist groups. Cooper-White traces this to our conscious desire to belong combined with a shared sense of purpose and values. She draws concerning parallels between Christian nationalist groups and tactics used by cults. She also delineates those shared values: sin as personal and not corporate, protecting white status and power, defending patriarchy, and gun rights. She also discusses unconscious motivations including groupthink, the power of leaders, especially narcissistic leaders, and trauma that leads to a “doer and done-to” polarity.

How then do we engage? Cooper-White suggests a triage:

  • Red light: STOP (at least here, at least for now)–talking with true believers. There are times when people are not open to conversation, or this is not a conversation that is good for us.
  • Yellow light: Tread lightly where we sense some openness. Often, the first step is to listen and show respect and curiosity.
  • Green light: Go deeper, gently, and wisely. Cooper-White goes deeper here, beginning with building and maintaining relationships, awareness of how new conflicts arouse old family dynamics, breathing, noticing our feelings, listening to understand more than speak, avoiding assumptions, making I statements, avoiding argumentation and debate, and admitting our own failings.

She also offers guidance where conversations threaten to become tense including awareness of power and social contexts, conducive and unconducive settings, and choosing our battles. Self-care, including channeling our energies into social activism may be helpful. We need to be aware that this is hard work.

The third chapter is one I found especially helpful, including the idea of triaging our conversations. Likewise, the definitional discussion of chapter one helps with understanding what it is we are talking about, and how we can love country without becoming nationalists, Christian or otherwise.

Chapter two on why people are drawn in was the one about which I felt conflicted. What I most agree with is the idea of group identity–how our affiliations do shape us. The description of values that draw people feels very much like an “outsider” perspective. I do not think this sufficiently reckons with the deep sense of offense many who would identify with these groups feel at being condescended to, marginalized, and treated as unenlightened yokels. Nor does it reckon with the genuine concerns about moral decline perceived by these groups. Even though outsiders perceive them as both enjoying a certain amount of white privilege and political influence, their felt and lived experience is very different. While some identify with Christ in these experiences and trust God to exalt when they are humbled and marginalized, others are drawn by strong figures who suggest they may take these matters into their own hands and take the country back. While there is much I would agree with in the author’s analysis, this felt a bit too much like the progressive version of the parallel echo chambers that divide us.

None of this should detract from the reality that Christian nationalism is a toxic movement. First of all, it idolizes both strong leaders and American greatness when God is greater. To the degree that it is allied with white supremacism, patriarchy and the abuse of women which is a scandal in evangelicalism, and the use of authoritarian means to accomplish its political ends, it is dangerous to the flourishing of a diverse, democratic society. The value of this work is both that it makes this clear while recognizing that people we care for have been drawn to this, people with whom we hope for continued relationships that change us all for good.

____________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Review: How the World Really Works

How the World Really Works, Vaclav Smil. New York: Viking, 2022.

Summary: A scientific, data-based assessment of how our advanced technological global civilization has developed, the challenges we face, and what it realistically will take to address these challenges.

Can we get to “carbon zero” by 2050? Why has it been so hard to get everything from computer chips to PPE? Why didn’t the dire predictions of The Population Bomb come true? Vaclav Smil would maintain that to respond to these questions, we need to understand the science, the data, of how the world really works. And it is often the case in our public discussions, we have refused to take a hard look at the scientific realities and the technological possibilities.

Take the Population Bomb illustration for example. Back in 1968, Paul Ehrlich predicted massive deaths from famine resulting from overpopulation. At that time, the world population was 3.7 billion. Now it is over 8 billion, and no mammoth famines have occurred (yet). How could this be? It was the result of vastly increased grain yields resulting from hybrids and the intensive application of nitrogenous fertilizers manufactured with carbon-based fuels. Could we go back? Not easily–manure, the primary source of nitrogen before chemical fertilizers provides far less fertilizer, weighs far more and requires far more labor.

Or those shortages of chips and PPE. Facilitated by global supply chains, far-flung factories with lower wage scales, and container shipping, it was economically feasible to “offshore” manufacturing throughout the world. But is it wise, Smil asks, to manufacture 70 percent of rubber gloves in a single factory, or all our computer chips elsewhere? Manufacturing shutdowns and transport delays during the pandemic exposed this supply chain that all of us took for granted.

Smil challenges us to face the realities of modern life. Take our dependence on electric power. Apart from nuclear, carbon-fueled power plants offer the maximum of power-generating capability and reliability. Hydro, wind, and solar are both less efficient and reliable. And our increased energy usage offsets the gains we are making in renewables. Getting free of carbon-based power generation is not happening in places like China and India who are increasing their usage of such power.

Then there are what Smil calls “the four pillars of modern civilization”: cement, steel, plastics, and ammonia. Ammonia is what feeds the world in terms of those nitrogenous fertilizers. The lightweight durability and moldability of plastic makes it widely used in everything from water bottles to airframes, yet also troublesome as it breaks down and infiltrates our water, and our bodies. The world runs on concrete in our highways and buildings, yet it also deteriorates over time as witnessed in bridge and high-rise collapses. Likewise, steel is ubiquitous in our building, various utensils, our vehicles, our tools and more. It is very recyclable. The fundamental truth we need to face is that, at present, the manufacture of all of these are massively dependent on fossil fuels. As yet, no renewable power sources exist to manufacture these.

Smil assesses our environmental challenges. These do not come in terms of oxygen, food, and water, basic constituents of life but in terms of decarbonization. He argues that none of the “zero carbon” goals even begins to wrestle with the “four pillars” of modern life, nor the challenges of electricity generation globally. This doesn’t prevent him for arguing that we must do what we can, from reducing waste in food production to converting to cleaner forms of transport and reducing energy use (such as installing triple-paned windows, and reducing meat consumption. But that won’t get us anywhere close to carbon zero and he excoriates the magical thinking of so many public pronouncements without substantive changes.

Smil includes a chapter on understanding risk, which seemed a bit of a diversion from the other subjects in the book, but also connects to his basic theme of how the world works. He illustrates that many of the risks we fear are less than the ones to which we are daily exposed–for example the risk of dying at the hands of a foreign terrorist are infinitesimal to that of dying from domestic gun violence of various sorts and that often we do not make policies on the basis of rational factors.

His final chapter deals with understanding the future, the flaws in all our future predictions (again, remember The Population Bomb). The reality is that we are navigating a space that is somewhere between apocalypse and singularity. While the future is uncertain, understanding in realistic terms our past and our present helps us recognize one thing–our actions do matter.

This is a daunting book, both in terms of technical detail and its dose of hard empirical reality–a bucket of cold water drenching our idealistic dreams of a carbon-free world. Smil does not say we shouldn’t work toward these things. Instead, I hear him saying, “Let’s get real and talk about how we are going to get there and how long it will take and what that will mean.” He resists pessimism, but also points tellingly to the lack of little more than empty promises on the global stage. He wants us to stop thinking we can evacuate to other planets. We’re not going to terraform Mars. As a scientist, he wants us to focus on how modern life in the only world we have really works.

Review: A Supreme Love

A Supreme Love: The Music of Jazz and the Hope of the Gospel, William Edgar. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2022.

Summary: A study of the roots and contributing streams of jazz music, proposing that the reason jazz moves from miserable lament to inextinguishable joy is the Christian hope found in the gospel.

This book had me from the title. I recognized the allusion to one of the great jazz albums of all times, John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme. And I found myself intrigued by the idea of the connection between jazz and the Christian gospel. That connection did not seem readily apparent for many years, my associations being of performances in speakeasys and clubs. Then I had the chance to perform some of Duke Ellington’s Sacred Songs with a local choral group, learned about the spirituality of Coltrane in his later life, and listened to some of the sacred works of Dave Brubeck.

William Edgar’s book shows the connection going far deeper, and further back. Most know that jazz is one of the gifts that has come out of the Black community. Edgar, who is both a theologian and an accomplished jazz pianist, traces it all the way back to the Middle Passage experience and the centuries of slavery. He writes:

How could the music that grew out of the realities of the enslavement of Black people, forced migration, rape, husbands and wives being separated, and children being ripped from their families not reflect this suffering and pain? If, as I will argue, jazz is the story of deep misery that leads to inextinguishable joy, then we cannot ignore the sources of sorrow that are found at the root of this music, from spirituals to blues
to jazz.
(Edgar, p. 27)

As noted, a theme running through the book is the idea of deep misery and lament that leads to inextinguishable joy. Edgar traces that misery to the deplorable conditions of slavery, but also notes the strange and miraculous reception of the Christian gospel despite the iniquities of Christian slave owners. The biblical narratives of physical and spiritual bondage and emancipation resonated deeply as did the movements from lament to praise in the Psalms.

All of this found expression in distinctive forms of music and dance drawing upon both African culture and the musical forms found in various parts of the South. Edgar traces several different streams arising, beginning with spirituals, then gospel, and finally the blues, all of which contribute to jazz. Edgar connects the “lining out” used to teach words with the “call and response” character of the spirituals, the use of spirituals as code on the Underground Railroad and the popularizing of spirituals by the Fisk Jubilee singers. Gospel is more complicated with roots both in nineteenth century revivalism in the white Southern church and a parallel movement of Black gospel music beginning in the 1920’s, one of the most significant figures of which was Thomas Andrew Dorsey, known for the song “Take My Hand, Precious Lord.” Meanwhile the blues arose around the work songs and “sorrow songs” of the plantation experience. While the connection with biblical faith may not be immediately evident, Edgar notes the connections with the laments of scripture, even noting the similar uses of parallelism.

The third part of the book focuses on jazz itself. Edgar traces its immediate origins to ragtime, stride piano and the music of New Orleans, introducing us to some of the greats of early jazz from Art Tatum, Buddy Bolden and James Reese, Louis Armstrong, “Jelly Roll” Morton, and Duke Ellington. He discusses their music and their spirituality. From “Jelly Roll” Morton, we get the dictum, “Rejoice at the death and cry at the birth: New Orleans sticks close to the scriptures,” another example of the sorrow to joy theme. He goes on to discuss the “midlife of jazz” in bebop and cool, focusing on “Dizzy” Gillespie, Charlie Parker and the great Miles Davis. The two following chapters then draw more specific connections of jazz and the gospel or spirituality in the life of jazz musicians offering examples from the work of Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Duke Ellington, jazz pianist Billy Taylor, Oscar Peterson, Dave Brubeck, John Coltrane, Keith Jarrett, and others. Not all would be considered orthodox Christians by any means, but evidence of the hope of the gospel may be found in their work, according to Edgar.

The book concludes with Edgar’s seven joys of jazz: its bluesy ambiance, its strength to climb, the element of invention, the concept of “swing,” the solidarity of jazz musicians in which performances are conversations in music, the great art that arises from earthy roots, and finally the joy out of deep pain that Edgar attributes to the influence of the Christian message. I suspect some will want to contend this last, but Edgar’s cumulative case of history, contributing streams, and examples from some of the signature jazz greats offer a good explanation for the element of joy that distinguishes this music. I also found it interesting that Edgar contrasts the joy of this music with the “happy” feel of much White evangelical music. Jazz is rooted in both a more profound experience of pain and a more profound hope.

Edgar makes this argument without being polemical. I felt like I was in a jazz appreciation course, being invited to understand and appreciate and truly love the music Edgar loves. And he helps us cultivate that love as well. He includes a nine-page appendix of links to YouTube videos of performances by various artists organized by sub-genres and time periods. What a great way to introduce oneself to jazz in its various expressions and to explore for oneself the “supreme love” that Edgar believes is the source of the great joy in jazz.

____________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Chaney High School

Main entrance to Chaney High School. Photograph ©2019 by Robert C Trube, all rights reserved.

I’ve written about many of the people and personal experiences connected with Chaney High School, but realized after my story last week on East High School that I have never really written an article on the history of Chaney. It is a story that runs through my family. Both of my parents, my brother, sister, and I are all Chaney graduates. This year in particular seems an appropriate one to write that history as my graduating class of 1972 will hold its fifty year reunion.

The early 1920’s were a boom period in Youngstown’s history, with rapid growth outward from the downtown in all directions. At that time, only The Rayen School and South High School served the whole city. The Board of Education reached the decision to build new high schools on the East and West sides of town, that would be named East and West High Schools, respectively. While West High School on N. Hazelwood Avenue was under construction (along with what was then Cleveland Elementary, later to be West Elementary), N. H. Chaney, the former superintendent of schools in Youngstown from 1902 to 1920, died in 1925. He had planned and oversaw the growth of Youngstown schools, and the decision was made to name the new high school in his honor. Chaney High School was born and opened in 1926.

C. W. Ricksecker was the first principal of the school, serving in this position the entire time Chaney was on N. Hazelwood. He was the principal of the Chaney my parents attended. They spoke of his discipline and high standards. In high school, my mother won a statewide chemistry award. One of the people he recruited was Chester McPhee, who taught physical education and coached football and basketball at the old Chaney throughout its history. He was the coach of Frank Sinkwich, who won the Heisman Trophy in 1942 and went on to a brief career in the NFL. George “Shotgun” Shuba, whose handshake with Jackie Robinson was recently commemorated with a statue in Wean Park in downtown Youngstown was also a Chaney graduate. Many others, including my father, went on from their education at Chaney to military service in World War 2, as reflected in this 1943 yearbook paying tribute to those who had already given their lives in service to the country. The yearbooks in this era were called the Rig Veda. Only later would they reflect the Cowboy theme and become The Lariat.

The late 1940’s and 1950’s were another time of growth, during which Youngstown reached its peak population of 170,000 people. Home construction continued on the West side, particularly in the Kirkmere area out to the western and southwestern city limits. Under the leadership of superintendent of schools Paul C. Bunn, plans were made for new schools to accommodate this growth, including a new Chaney High School, located at 731 S. Hazelwood, more central to the whole West side area it would serve. A school levy was passed and the school was built at a cost of $1.4 million and dedicated on February 20, 1955.

C. W. Ricksecker, principal throughout Chaney’s life up to that point was entrusted by Board chair Warren P. Williamson (of WKBN fame) with the “guardianship” of the building. Ricksecker expressed his appreciation for this new facility as he stated, “We are grateful for this palace of learning, for through its modern equipment we may the better teach and inspire youth in a time of increasing difficulty in educational work.” Over 1000 people attended the dedication including the daughter of N. H. Chaney and numerous city leaders.

My first visit to Chaney was in the fall of 1961 during the Sabin vaccine distribution to fight polio. My brother was in his senior year while I was in second grade at the ancient Washington Elementary and I was so impressed with how new and modern it was and thought, “one day this will be my high school.” During those years, Chaney continued its tradition of competitiveness in sports under Lou “Red” Angelo and, during my time at Chaney, Ed Matey, who coached for many years and eventually served as athletic director for Chaney and eventually, the Youngstown Schools. Matey led Chaney football teams to eight City Series championships, coaching future NFL players like Matt Cavanaugh and Jerry Olsavsky. In all, Chaney won more championships in football in the old City Series than any other Youngstown high school. After Ed Matey retired from coaching, Chaney football teams won fourteen more City Series championships before the end of the City Series in 2006.

My memory of Chaney was of several inspiring teachers. I hesitate to name more than one because others will tell me who I left out. One of my favorites was a math and computer science teacher, Mr. Erickson (I write more about him and other inspiring teachers here). He was friends with Harvey, the invisible (to us) rabbit who would visit and with whom Mr. Erickson would speak. He always made math interesting, and offered some of the first computer programming classes when programs were still written on IBM punch cards and run on mainframes that would fill a room and had less computing power than my cell phone. Our principal was Mr. John Maluso, who just recently passed away in his 90’s. Over the years, Chaney graduated not only great athletes but a number of people who excelled in a variety of fields. One of the most notable was Thomas Bopp, the astronomer who co-discovered the Hale-Bopp Comet.

Library and Media Center, Photograph ©2019 by Robert C Trube, all rights reserved.
Chaney Gymnasium entrance, Photograph ©2019 by Robert C Trube, all rights reserved.

Over the years, Chaney would receive some updates in terms of a new gymnasium and a modern library and media center while four other Youngstown high schools closed. Then in 2011, I heard the news that the “last” class of Chaney Cowboys would be graduating. Chaney would be converted to a school for STEM and arts education with East High School serving as the city’s only traditional high school. That meant the end of sports teams. Then in 2018, the school board reversed course, and converted Chaney back to a traditional high school and restored a number of athletic programs. COVID has disrupted some of the rebuilding process but I look forward to more great Chaney sports teams in the future. And in four more years, in 2026, Chaney will celebrate the one hundredth anniversary of its founding. One hopes that the students in coming years will continue Chaney’s tradition of both scholarship, athleticism, and service to community and country that has marked the school throughout its history.

A final note, this is a personal perspective on Chaney’s history, and a limited one at that. I know there is much that I’ve left out. I hope my fellow Cowboys will help tell that story.

Once a Cowboy, always a Cowboy.

To read other posts in the Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown series, just click “On Youngstown.” Enjoy!

Review: A Short History of Christian Zionism

A Short History of Christian Zionism, Donald M. Lewis. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2021.

Summary: An account of the understanding of the Jewish people’s claim to their ancient homeland throughout history, and particularly since the Reformation, focusing on Great Britain and the United States.

The idea of the claim of the Jewish people to their ancient homeland has not always been held (at least prior to return of the Messiah), either among the Jews or among Christians. This work traces the history of this idea and the various movements, both Jewish and Christian, and both theological and political that have given rise to Christian Zionism in its modern expressions.

Donald M. Lewis begins with offering his definition of the contentious term, “Christian Zionism”:

[A] Christian movement which holds to the belief that the Jewish people have a biblically mandated claim to their ancient homeland in the Middle East.

He notes that for many in history, this has implied a Jewish return but not necessarily a Jewish state.

With that he traces that history, beginning briefly with the period of the early church to the Reformation. For much of this period, the church was characterized by anti-Jewish attitudes, even blaming the loss of the land on the crucifixion of Jesus. While Jerusalem and the Holy Land was an object of the Crusades, it was not for the purpose of restoring the Jewish people to this land.

The change began with the Reformation and the bulk of this book treats the history from the Reformation to the present, particularly beginning with Calvin’s Geneva. It was here that the idea of the Restoration began among the theologians that followed Calvin, distinguishing the Protestants from Catholics, first with the idea of spiritual restoration of the Jews, a mass conversion at some future point, and second of a return to their homeland, seeing in this the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy. As the Calvinist movement spread to England, so did these ideas, particularly in the form of seeing England as a chosen nation tasked with protecting and restoring the Jewish people. Meanwhile, German pietism under Philip Spener emphasized Jewish evangelism. These movements would shape the future of Christian Zionism in both Great Britain and America. In America, here as in so many things Jonathan Edwards played a major role, not only in anticipating a great future conversion of the Jews but in the restoration of the people to the land, aided by American political agency.

Subsequent chapters trace the turns these efforts to convert, protect and restore the Jews took in both England and the US, culminating in the Balfour Declaration, British control of Palestine following World War 1 and the migration of Jews to the land and parallel movements in the U.S. and the shifts that occurred from postmillenial to premillenial to charismatic theological support over the years. Lewis describes the various organizations supporting the return of Jews to the land, and later on, support of the Jewish state. He traces these organizations and movements down to the present day and the growth of these into a global movement.

There were several things I appreciated about this work, beginning with the fact that it was highly readable, even as Lewis negotiates the various theological positions, Christian Zionist efforts, and figures on both sides of the Atlantic. Second, I appreciated the fact that this was a descriptive work and not a piece of advocacy. No matter where one stands on the question of Jews and the land, this is a work that may be read with profit.

In addition, Lewis gives the lie to the exclusive association of Christian Zionism with premillenial dispensationalism. In fact, J.N. Darby rejected the idea of the return of the Jews to the land prior to Christ’s coming. He shows how Christian Zionism was adapted to postmillenialism, historic premillenialism, and eventually with pre-millenial dispensationalism theological persuasions, and even to pentecostalism.

He also chronicles the realization of secular leaders of the state of Israel of how important Christian Zionist support was to the Jewish state and Lewis traces how they made the most of Christian tourism to strengthen that support. Lewis draws the arc from Christian ministry efforts to political advocacy.

The book ends on an important question being faced at the present time of the place of conversionist efforts as part of seeking the blessing of the Jews. He notes the growth of a dual covenant theology that turns away from evangelistic efforts and Paul’s efforts to offer the gospel “to the Jews first.” Instead, it advocates love, esteem, and blessing that respects Jews distinctive covenant relationship with God. The dilemma for some is one of cultural insensitivity and offensiveness versus biblical faithfulness. True to the intent of the book, Lewis does not offer an answer but notes the trends that raise the question.

This history is valuable in understanding how we’ve gotten to where we are with Christian Zionism, from the justice issues relating to displaced Palestinians, to ways theology contributes to Christian Zionism as well as how historical events have shaped theology, and how religious and political efforts have intermingled, particularly in both Great Britain and the United States.

____________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Review: God Dwells Among Us (Revisited)

God Dwells Among Us (Essential Studies in Biblical Theology), G. K. Beale and Mitchell Kim. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2021 (Originally published in 2014).

Summary:A study of the theme of the temple from God’s garden temple in Eden to the New Jerusalem of Revelation, and the role of the people of God, his living temple, in extending the reach of God’s kingdom.

I discovered in logging this book in Goodreads and setting up this post that I read a different edition of this book in 2016 and posted a review of it previously on this blog. I’ve enjoyed the new Essential Studies in Biblical Theology series and have tried to review works in that series and had not realized that this work had been re-issued as part of this series. But it totally fits the series purpose to address broad themes in “the grand story line of the Bible.” The temple is clearly one of these, and building on the work of G. K. Beale, Beale and Mitchell Kim offer a survey of this theme and its practical implications. The book actually grows out of a preaching series by Kim drawing the arc between the Biblical development of this idea and the life of the church.

Rather than recapitulate the material covered in my previous review, since, as far as I can tell, this is basically the same book with a new cover and as part of a series. I will just touch on a few things that stood out to me in this reading of the work. One is that I’ve often thought of the discontinuity between Eden and the rest of history resulting from the fall. This work underscored the purpose of God to dwell among human beings, first materialized in the garden temple of Eden and intended to expand through the rest of creation. The wonder is that the fall, with its very profound impacts, did not thwart God’s intent to dwell deeply with his creatures, as he calls out Abraham, and works through this family to bless all the families of the earth.

I was also impressed with the work done on the pattern of the temple from the outer courts, the holy place, and the holy of holies and how this plays out in tabernacle, temple, and the church. One grasps the deep offense of Jesus when the outer court is turned into a marketplace when this was the place of approach, and as far as the Gentiles could come to pray. Also striking was the idea that for the church, the outer courts, the place of sacrifice is the place of our witness, our μάρτυρα (marturas) the word from which we get martyr. Through the suffering of the church in faithful witness, the nations come to God. Finally, one of the marvels of the new Jerusalem, the new garden-temple is that the outer courts and holy place are no longer. Holy God is amid his people without separations.

Witness is fueled by worship, our prayers, like incense rising, and God’s word like the bread of presence pointing to the one who is our living Bread. All of this flows out of being able to approach the living God through Christ, our great high priest. All of this occurs, no longer in a physical building, but amid a people, and we who are in Christ, are that people, we are that living temple, and in mission, we see that temple expand to encompass the whole creation and all the nations, fulfilling both the mandates of creation and the great commission. The two are really one.

It strikes me that reflecting on this theme of God’s presence among us is great comfort at a time when the American church, particularly white evangelicalism, has been rocked by scandal and apostasy, and many are deserting her. God’s purpose to dwell among his people and to expand that dwelling was not thwarted by the fall, by Israel’s unfaithfulness and exile, nor by the repeated failings of the church. We have failed but God will not fail. One of the encouragements I gain from this work is to face our failures but not wallow them, but rather to look up to the unfailing God who continues to be present and will not fail to build his world-encompassing temple.

____________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Review: The Anxiety Field Guide

The Anxiety Field Guide, Jason Cusick. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2022.

Summary: A practical guide with daily exercises to help face anxieties and reduce feelings of anxiety integrating clinical practices and biblical insights.

We all know what it is to be anxious and we live in anxious times. The question is, how will we respond? Will we make healthy choices that face and normalize our anxiety? Or will we avoid situations that make us anxious or escape into unhealthy coping behaviors when we feel anxious? Will we step into anxiety-producing opportunities for growth and advancement, or will we choose the safe route?

Jason Cusick is an anxious person from an anxious family. Stepping into larger responsibilities, he experienced panic attacks. And it led to a season of therapy in which he learned about anxiety and about himself. He realized that anxiety is a gift of God for our safety, but can be awakened at the wrong time. He learned that healthy responses to anxiety are rooted in four principles;

  1. Normalization. Learning that anxiety is natural but can become unhealthy.
  2. Exposure. Learning to understand and face our fears rather than avoiding them.
  3. Habituation. Learning new skills that desensitize us to our fears.
  4. Care. Learning healthy ways to experience God’s love for us and others.

With this introduction, the remainder of the book consists of thirty short chapters. The idea is to read one a day and to practice the exercises at the end of the chapter which focus on the four principles above. Here’s one example from the early part of the book. It is to “Practice Pit Stops.” Noticing how good pit stops in a race occur in 10 seconds or less, Cusick advises 10 second pit stops when we are experiencing anxious thoughts. It begins with recognizing our need for help–that we are having an anxious moment, pausing what we are doing, allowing ourselves ten seconds, calling it what it is, noticing how it is affecting us, and using one of the other skills in the book to make a healthy response (e.g. put our anxiety in our “worry box”). He concludes with these three action steps: 1) When anxious, give yourself ten seconds; 2) Give yourself more than ten seconds if needed; and 3) Create a mood log to track our anxious moments.

Cusick’s practical helps include not only psychologically sound practices but also spiritual insights involving God’s care for us, practical prayer practices including lament prayers, practice resting with God, and choosing joy. He helps us learn to receive anxiety as God’s gift rather than something to be suppressed. Throughout, he shares instances where he struggled with anxiety, how he has practiced these ideas, and how he has been less than perfect. Perfection is anxiety-producing, and Cusick helps us see that progress can even be found in attempting and failing rather than avoiding what we fear.

We might be thinking of a particularly anxious friend to share this book with. It might not be a bad thing to get two and do it together. I suspect we all need an anxiety tune-up, or at least an anxiety pit stop!

____________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Review: A Student’s Guide to Liberal Learning

A Student’s Guide to Liberal Learning  (ISI Guides to the Major Disciplines), James V. Schall, S.J. Wilmington, DE: Intercollegiate Studies Institute, 2019. (Link is to free e-book download from publisher).

Summary: A pithy little guide on pursuing the liberty that comes in the pursuit of truth and how one might devote oneself to liberal learning.

In this pithy booklet, James V. Schall, S.J. makes the case for the classic ideal of liberal learning that he believes lost in the post-modern setting of contemporary higher education. Liberal education believed that the pursuit of truth, goodness, and beauty freed one (liberated one) to pursue the well-lived life. He writes this booklet to the student who has the sense that there is something more that might be pursued in her education that what is on offer. He also observes, with Augustine and Aristotle, that our actions more than our words reveal what is true, and that our moral failings may prevent us from seeing truth, something rarely, if ever, heard in the classroom.

Where then does one begin. For Schall, he urges two things. One is self-discipline, that is self-control of our passions, fears, dreams, and thoughts, and honesty about our failings in these areas. He writes: “The person who was most free was the one who had the most control over himself.” It is this that allows us to focus on the things of greatest importance.

The second thing is to build a good personal library. Schall doesn’t believe this requires many books–early pioneers often had only Shakespeare and the Bible, and much of what was important in life could be found here. I loved Schall’s commitment to not assigning books that he did not think worth keeping. And this leads to a guiding standard–our libraries should consist of the books we would read again (a standard I use more and more as I cull books from my shelves).

Schall also advocates that we need good guides, holding up Samuel Johnson as an example. A good guide is one who helps the student test ideas by reality. One of the most beautiful lines about teaching is this:

We begin our intellectual lives not with need, nor less with desire, but with wonder and enchantment. A student and teacher read together many books they otherwise might have missed. Both need to make efforts to know the truth of things, the ordinary things and the highest things, that the one and the other might have overlooked had they not had time, serious time, together.

And so Schall concludes by discussing the matter of time, invoking the unusual authority of Louis L’Amour whose The Education of a Wandering Man makes the case for finding the time to read in a busy life. Schall urges students to take time beyond their classes to read, to find great works that aren’t taught in the used bookstores. What books, you may ask? One of the delights of this book are Schall’s recommendations interspersed in the text as well as an Appendix of “Schall’s Unlikely List of Books to Keep Sane By,” a list of twenty titles–only half of which I’ve read. While some are found on “Great Books” lists, many are not.

My only objection is that they are all by white Euro-Americans. I think we may also grow in liberal learning by reading W.E,B. DuBois, Frederick Douglass, and Langston Hughes as well as African, South American, and Asian writers. One of the most profound works I’ve read is Shusaku Endo’s Silence.

That said, this is a delightful little work. For many students, the idea of “liberal learning” has no room in the curriculum. Schall proposes that, sad as this is, the perceptive student will find the room on his or her own and find good guides and books along the way. And this “Guide” is a good beginning.