Review: Ohio

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Ohio

Ohio, Stephen Markley. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2018.

Summary: Four characters, acquainted with each other in high school return to their home town in Ohio ten years after graduation on the same night, unbeknownst to each other, driven by various longings reflecting lives that turned out differently than they’d hoped.

There are two Ohios. There is the Ohio of big and middle-sized cities, most within the rustbelt, apart from Columbus and Cincinnati, struggling to re-make themselves. Then there is the rest of Ohio. After you subtract the first Ohio, there are about 75 counties, each with a county seat of five to thirty thousand or so people. This story could have taken place in any of them. The largest city in the county, a decent size high school, farmland and a few local industries that employ much of the town. Many were devastated in the Great Recession of 2008. Those who could have left. Or they enlisted, some returning physically and emotionally wounded, some returning in pine coffins. The towns struggle with the opioid epidemic that is ravaging the state. There is the wistful memory of what was, combined with a hopelessness.

That is the backdrop of Stephen Markley’s debut novel, and captures the lived reality of many in my home state, when you get beyond the Chamber of Commerce promotional materials. The disturbing thought as I read this account is that it is a narrative that extends far beyond Ohio, across our national landscape.

The story begins in 2007 with a memorial parade for Rick Brinklan, the son of New Canaan’s chief of police. A bereaved family. A former girlfriend who cannot speak. A former friend who fails to show up. Fast forward six years to a hot summer night in 2013. Four graduates from the local high school, unbeknownst to each other, return to the town the same night.

Bill Ashcraft, an increasingly radical political activist, carries a mysterious package to Kaylen Lynn, for a substantial payoff, Rick’s former girlfriend, who had slept with Bill as well. Stacey Moore, a lesbian and ecologically oriented student of literature returns to New Canaan in her search for Lisa Han, her first love, who broke off with her, and then mysteriously disappeared from her life, apart from a few communications, which oddly, tracked back to New Canaan. She meets Lisa’s mom and an old high school music teacher, but fails to find a clue to Lisa. Dan Eaton, having lost an eye after his third tour of duty, in Afghanistan, returns to see his old flame, Hailey Kowalczyk, now married. Tina Ross drives across the state, leaving the first man who really loved her to avenge herself for a high school sexual assault by Todd Beaufort and his football buddies.

Markley tells the stories of each separately, moving back and forth between high school episodes, subsequent life events, and the present of the summer of 2013. There are points they, and the others they knew who are still in New Canaan intersect. We begin to see that high school wasn’t simply “the best time of our lives” but for each, a darker time that marked their lives, even ten years later. Violence done in high school, known and unknown, comes full circle in violence. Idealism and patriotism dissolves into disillusion and anger and grief.

There is a movement between veneer and reality–the church upbringing and FCA Bible studies, and sexual exploration and violence; the Friday night lights of a powerhouse football teams and cheerleaders, and the horrible things done at unsupervised drinking parties, the betrayals of friends.

The book portrays a bleak view of the world evident in the last words of the book, as Bill and Stacey part after meeting once more, several months after the summer night of 2013:

” ‘Keep searching, Moore.’ He pulled away so he could look her in the eye. ‘Fight like hell. It’s the only thing I’ve ever truly believed. Always, always, always fight like hell.’

And they were gone, these infinitesimal creatures, walking the surface of time, trying and failing to articulate the dreams of ages, born and wandering across the lonesome heavens.”

Heaven for them is empty, dreams fail and die, and yet each of the four in some ways fights on. Danny cares for a wounded buddy, both on the battlefield and at home until he dies. Tina ends up in a prison ward, trying to find hope and forgiveness in the Bible studies she leads. Bill and Stacey keep searching. They make us ask why we keep hope alive in a seemingly hopeless world, why we dream and try to articulate those dreams.

And then there is the mystery of Lisa’s disappearance, resolved in the book, but not in this review. You just have to read this haunting, troubling, and powerful work. It both is and is not about Ohio. It is a reflection on the disjunction between the American dream and American reality, that a rising generation is struggling to make sense of, and with which the postcard towns of our American landscape are trying to come to terms.

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher via Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

Review: Conformed to the Image of His Son

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Conformed to the Image of His Son

Conformed to the Image of His Son, Haley Goranson Jacob (Foreword by N. T. Wright). Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2018.

Summary: An in-depth exploration of the meaning of Romans 8:29b-30, arguing that conformity to the image of the His Son has to do with our participation in the Son’s rule over creation, which is our glorification.

“For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.” Romans 8:29-30, English Standard Version

Generations of believers have thrilled to the language of this passage in Romans 8 and its description of the glorious destiny of believers to be conformed to the image of Christ the Son. But what does that all mean? This was the question Haley Goranson Jacob asked, and the answers she found in commentators, when they did address the language of “conformed to the image of his Son” and “glorified,” was all over the map. That question became Jacob’s dissertation study, and subsequently this book.

Jacob contends that instead of some form of spiritual, moral, physical or sacrificial conformity or a reference to a shared radiance with Christ’s glory, this verse points to our participation in the exalted calling of Christ as the last Adam and glorious king to rule with him over the creation as his vicegerents. And she argues that this is what it means for us to be glorified–to share in the Son’s glorious rule over creation.

Jacob makes a careful case for her thesis. She begins by a study of the background of the use of cognates for “glory” in the Septuagint and Apocalyptic literature, applying semiotic theory, and concludes that while there are varied usages, the most common, whether applied to humans or God is not radiance or splendor, but rather on exalted status or honor. She turns to Romans, noting echoes of Genesis 1:26-27 and Psalm 8, in the glory of the Son, the lost glory of humanity’s dominion over creation, and its restoration through the work of Christ. To strengthen the link between Christ the Son and humanity, she looks at the language of participation in Paul’s writing and contends that it is participation in the vocation of Christ, both in suffering and in exaltation over all creation.

Having laid this groundwork, she turns to Romans 8:29b-30. First she looks at the language of Sonship, and the echoes of the promised Davidic King and the last Adam. He is the firstborn, the first raised from the dead of a large family who rules over the creation he has redeemed. Believers participate as adopted sons in this rule and share in his glory–are glorified. One of the distinctives in Jacob’s argument is that she argues for the truth of this in the present and that we already participate in the Son’s work of redeeming a groaning creation, that this is the purpose Paul speaks of in Romans 8:28, that we participate in the working for good of all things.

The prospective reader should be warned that this is scholarly work, the turning of a doctoral thesis into a book, and that there is extensive use of Greek, and some Hebrew in the text. Nevertheless, Jacob’s writing is clear and her argument is set forth step by step for the reader to follow. Her intent is not mere scholarship, but scholarship in service to the church and the edification of believers.

Jacob’s point is not to deny the reality of moral transformation in Christ but to set it in the context of a larger vocation–to participate with the family of the redeemed in the rule of Christ over all creation, both now and in the new heaven and earth. This work challenges us to lift our eyes from our own spiritual progress, to the exalted Son, and the work he calls us to join him in. This is a calling to become who we were created, and then redeemed to be–image bearers who with mercy and love, care for the very good creation. The implication of this understanding extends meaning to all of our work, and has implications for the groaning creation in environmental crisis. To realize that all this comes through the foresight and wisdom of the exalted Father ought swell our hearts with renewed love and deepened affection toward the Father, Son, and Spirit whom we worship with wonder at the incredibly rich life we’ve been called to share.

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

Growing Up In Working Class Youngstown — William Holmes McGuffey

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William Holmes McGuffey, PD-US via Wikimedia

McGuffey is one of those familiar names of Youngstown. McGuffey Road runs from Wick Avenue through the East side and Coitsville Township. On the south side of the road in Coitsville Township is the William Holmes McGuffey Wildlife Preserve, at the location of William Holmes McGuffey’s boyhood home. There used to be a McGuffey Plaza, and later Mall. On the West side, William Holmes McGuffey Elementary was recently opened at 310 S. Schenley.

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McGuffey’s Eclectic First Reader, PD-US via Wikipedia

McGuffey is most famous for his McGuffey’s Eclectic Readers. Generations of children learned how to read and were taught the basics of good character through his readers. Between 1836 and 1960 130 million copies were sold. Some home schoolers still use them!

McGuffey’s connection was that he spent part of his boyhood at the Coitsville homesite. He was born September 23, 1800 in Claysville, Pennsylvania, in Washington County, about 45 mile southwest of Pittsburgh. The family lived briefly in Tuscarawas County, Ohio before moving to Coitsville. As a child, he was educated by Rev. William Wick, who knew his family from when Wick lived in Washington County. Wick taught him Latin as well as using “Webster’s Speller” and Lindley Murray’s English Grammar. It would be interesting to see how much his childhood education influenced his Readers.

He later attended the Greersburg Academy in Darlington, Pennsylvania, and, from 1820 to 1826, Washington College. While a student he was a traveling instructor, teaching for a time in Poland, Ohio. After completing his studies in 1826, he went to Miami University in Oxford, Ohio where he became a professor. It was during this time that he wrote and published his Readers. His home in Oxford, which I’ve seen, is a historic landmark and still in use. In 1836, he became the president of Cincinnati College (now the University of Cincinnati), president of Ohio University in 1839, and then president of the Woodward Free Grammar School in Cincinnati in 1843. In 1845, he moved to Charlottesville, Virginia, where he taught as a professor of philosophy. He died, and was buried there in 1872.

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William Holmes McGuffey home in Oxford, Ohio, Nyttend – Own work, Public Domain via Wikipedia

There is an active local William Holmes McGuffey Historical Society in the Mahoning Valley. This group led efforts to set apart the land and place a historic marker in 1966 at the site of his boyhood home. Dr. John R. White, YSU anthropology professor, led a group of students in efforts to identify the original site of McGuffey’s childhood home.

McGuffey was a giant in American educational history, contributing to a highly literate frontier population. He left his mark on three Ohio universities before taking a professorship at one of the country’s prestigious universities. Unlike many in Youngstown history, his impact didn’t come from what he did in Youngstown, but rather how he used the education that began in Youngstown to impact generations of American children.

Ten Books I Want to Read Before I Die

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Some of my “Read Before I Die” Books

I posted a question at my Bob on Books Facebook page yesterday asking people to name one book they would like to read before they die. It seems that this is a popular topic. Here is a link to a Google search I did on the topic. It’s actually a worthwhile question to think about. We can read only so many books in a life, the length of which we have no way of knowing. One book available proposes a list of 1001 books.

Here’s my answer pared down to ten books. One of my criteria is that I’ve not read the book. The other is that I have the book already. That should warn you that it is probably a pretty idiosyncratic list. Don’t feel under any obligation to make it your list but use it simply as an example for doing this yourself.

  1. Charles Taylor, A Secular Age. It seems every other book I read references this book, and it seem a seminal work in helping us understand the time we are in.
  2. Hannah Arendt, The Origins of Totalitarianism. There seems to be a sense that the horrors of Stalinism and Nazism can’t happen here. I think they can, and I’d like to know what Arendt, who wrote the classic work on this thinks.
  3. T. S. Eliot, Collected Poems and Plays. I have read poetry of Eliot since college and acquired this work several years ago.
  4. Margaret Mitchell, Gone With the Wind. I’ve never read this and it was one of the books I inherited from my mom.
  5. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations. Might be as close as we get to the reflections of a philosopher-king.
  6. Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans. Barth’s study of Romans rocked not only his world but the theological world around him.
  7. Ron Chernow, Washington. I’ve delighted in his biographies of Grant and Hamilton.
  8. Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology (3 vols.). I bought this set from a retiring pastor 40 years ago. I suspect Hodge and I might differ on a few things, but his rigorous thought will make the argument worth it!
  9. Kenneth Scott Latourette, A History of Christianity. This has been on my shelves only half as long, but this classic study of church history has been begging to be read.
  10. Honore de Balzac, Pere Goriot and other stories. My mother loved Balzac as a young girl. I have her whole set of Balzac novels, that came from her father. I think I want to read these for what they might tell me about my mom before I pass them along.

It would not be hard to add to this list, and if you ask me another time, I might come up with a completely different one. But doing this makes me ask, why have I waited so long on a number of these? Perhaps the time has come to wait no longer.

 

Owning Up to Our Sorry Record As Men

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CDC/ Dawn Arlotta, Public Domain, via Free Stock Photos.biz

It has been deeply unsettling to follow the parade of revelations that have arisen out of the #MeToo movement. I’ve found it disturbing to read reports of respected leaders, doctors, pastors and priests, coaches and media figures, all men, who have harassed, assaulted or forced sex on children, athletes, and women against their wishes. In the late 1970’s, novelist Marilyn French wrote, “All men are rapists and that’s all they are. They rape us with their eyes, their laws and their codes.”

It’s really tempting as a man to say, “not all men.” But when I consider the pervasiveness of violence against women and children, and sexual predation, I realize this just doesn’t wash. I don’t know a woman alive who has not at least been harassed by a man, or felt the threat of sexual violence, or experienced it, and had what is most precious, their own bodies and their wills, violated. Saying “not all men” may make us feel better, but it really doesn’t even begin to take on board the deep pain and fear in the lives of our wives, our daughters, our colleagues, our friends. We really just need to shut up and listen, if the women around us trust us enough to take them seriously.

Scholars of race speak of systemic racism. It might be just as painful to face the reality of “systemic rapism.” There is something to what French says about eyes and laws and codes. Who of us men have looked at a woman and paid attention only to shape and body parts, and failed to consider the person? Who of us men have not benefited from inequities in our laws and customs that have the net effect of conferring higher wages and better opportunities? Who of us men have not sometimes benefited from unspoken ways of doing things, or social codes in churches, organizations, and businesses that protect power and control? Even the rights women have gained, such as suffrage, have had to be wrested from men.

Where do we begin in owning this stuff? Perhaps the place to begin is to stop justifying ourselves and sit with the tremendous havoc wrought by our gender in the lives of women and children. Stop saying “not all men.” It ends conversation. Instead, we might say “tell me more” and acknowledge the pain that is being expressed without offering justifications or excuses. Sometimes wrong is just wrong. Any way in which a man threatens or forces himself on a woman, child, or another man against that person’s will is just wrong. This is a bright-line offense that needs to be understood as unambiguously wrong, and the violation of that bright-line must never be protected, never justified, never covered up.

The other thing I believe we as men need to do is to assume full responsibility for our own sexuality. We must stop blaming women for our sexual longings and desires. We must stop blaming what women wear for our sexual responses. A sexually responsible man does not need a woman to tell him “no.” He makes it his responsibility to understand and honor the boundaries of a relationship. I would go so far as to say that men should not say with their bodies what they are unwilling to say in their commitments to a woman. I would go so far as to say that a man should not engage in the activity that can father children unless he is ready to assume the responsibility of being a father (and the woman wants him as the father of her children).

Women have been trying to call us out on these things for a long, long time. Men, we need to start calling each other out on this stuff. “Locker room humor” and all the ways we demean women should be treated as unacceptable and juvenile. Women shouldn’t have to call out these things because we as fathers, brothers, colleagues, and friends are doing it first–at the first hint of disrespecting the dignity of women.

I’m going to be controversial here, but I’m going to suggest that men declare a moratorium on trying to prevent women from having abortions. Please understand me here. I am pro-life. The inherent contradiction in celebrating conception when we want a child and destroying a fetus when we don’t should be readily apparent. The global abortion holocaust, particularly of female babies is a horror as awful as anything. Period.

What I want instead is for men to start talking about their own responsibility for the conditions that lead to abortion. We ask women to use methods of birth control that are often detrimental to their health. When these fail or are not used, we ask women to undergo a procedure that carries physical risks and psychological implications. Often, not always, it is the pressures of male lovers that force women into abortions. Women often choose abortion because they know the man won’t support them in raising a child, or don’t trust him, and they will end up carrying the burden of a child themselves. Men, if we really cared about preventing abortion, there is a great deal we could do without ever telling women what they should do or passing a law to prohibit abortion–refraining from fathering children we’re not ready to father and assuming responsibility for birth control for starters. In other words, assume responsibility for your own sexuality! Don’t put it on women.

Men, we need to own what those of our gender have done against women. No excuses. No shifting the blame. It’s not pretty. We’ve covered up for each other and arranged our power structures to sustain those coverups. We’ve joked about what is despicable. There are no excuses. To say “not me” or “not all men” is just a dodge for facing hard truths about ourselves and our brothers. Perhaps facing those truths unflinchingly may be the most “manly” thing we can do.

 

 

 

10 Rules For Lending Books

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U.S. Air Force photo/Senior Airman J.T. Armstrong

I saw a post from Bustle yesterday on “15 Rules for Borrowing Books, So You Don’t Lose Your Friends in the Process.” The article didn’t say anything about lending, so I thought I might propose a few rules for lenders, with the basic idea that you don’t want to lose friends over books. I really don’t think I can come up with 15, but here goes…

1. Basically, say good-bye to a book when you lend it. Just let it go, because there is a high likelihood you will never see it again. Is it really worth more than your friend?

2. If a book has special meaning to you (family heirloom, heavily annotated, a part of a set, or a reference you use regularly and need), don’t lend it. Just be honest and say, “this book has special meaning for me, or has been in the family, or is something I use regularly.” True friends will understand.

3. A book plate (ex libris) with your name may help. Sometimes people honestly forget from whom a book is borrowed.

4. Don’t lend a book if you need it or plan to read it soon. Again, just explain that. Offer to lend it after you’ve read it.

5. View lending as an easy way to clear out excess books from our shelves. Most of us have more books than shelves. A quoted attributed to Joe Queenen says, “Lending books to other people is merely a shrewd form of housecleaning.”

6. If repeat borrowers who don’t return books bothers you, set a limit. Just let your friend know that you only lend two books (or whatever number seems right to you) at a time to someone, and would be glad to lend the book they want when they’ve finished the others they’ve borrowed and returned them. Of course you have to decide if keeping that close a track of what you’ve lent matters.

7. Consider what the book meant to you. If it was beneficial, do you want to keep that to yourself, letting the book collect dust on your shelves. Lending a book can open up conversations with friends such as “did you see what I saw in this book?”

8. Don’t lend books you’ve borrowed, unless the owner says it is OK, and who owns the book is clear so that it can get back to them.

9. On the other hand, if you really are not concerned about getting the book back, let the person know they are free to pass it along after they have finished reading it. If a book is really good, shouldn’t it pass through many hands?

10. Think of lending books as a way of stocking your library in heaven. I take comfort in these words by C. S. Lewis:

My friend said, “I don’t see why there shouldn’t be books in Heaven. But you will find that your library in Heaven contains only some of the books you had on earth.” “Which?” I asked. “The ones you gave away or lent.” “I hope the lent ones won’t still have all the borrowers’ dirty thumb marks,” said I. “Oh yes they will,” said he. “But just as the wounds of the martyrs will have turned into beauties, so you will find that the thumb-marks have turned into beautiful illuminated capitals or exquisite marginal woodcuts.*

*C. S. Lewis, God in the Dock (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1970), 216.

Review: Death Comes to Pemberley

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Death Comes to Pemberley

Death Comes to Pemberley, P. D. James. New York: Vintage Books, 2013

Summary: P.D. James writes a murder mystery as a sequel to Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.

Jane Austen knock-offs are a cottage industry. Even a former neighbor of ours, Regina Jeffers, has written a whole series of Jane Austen books. Among those to try her hand at this genre is accomplished mystery writer, P.D. James. Over the years, I’ve delighted in her Adam Dalgleish mysteries, and though I’m not among the Austen fans, I thought I’d pick this up.

The story takes up six years into the marriage of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth’s sister Lydia has married George Wickham, childhood friend of Darcy, but is banned from Pemberley after attempting to seduce Darcy’s sister, Georgiana. There has always been something a bit disreputable about Wickham, but he distinguished himself in the Irish rebellion, and since leaving the military has bounced around in different jobs, leaning on family and others for support. It is the day before the annual Lady Anne Ball, the big social event at the Darcy estate. Fitzwilliam Darcy is on hand, hoping to win Georgiana’s hand, even while a newcomer, Mr. Alveston, a lawyer from London, takes the inside track. The whole household is busy at their work, including the elderly servant Bidwell, who refuses to go home to his family living in the forest on the estate, even though his son is declining toward death.

Wickham, Lydia, and Captain Denny, friend of Wickham show up at the Pemberley estate, cutting through the forest. The plan was to leave Lydia at the Darcy house while they went on to an errand. Words arise between Wickham and Captain Denny, who leaves the carriage, plunging into the forest, to be followed shortly by Wickham. Lydia and her driver wait, then hear shots fired. They go to Pemberley for help. A search party finds a drunken and distraught Wickham, covered in blood over the dead body of Captain Denny. His first words were, “He’s dead! Oh God, Denny’s dead! He was my friend, my only friend, and I’ve killed him! I’ve killed him! It’s my fault.”

With this seeming confession, he is taken into custody, awaiting trial for the murder. But Darcy is torn between his dislike for Wickham, and a sense that the words, taken for a confession, might mean something else–that it was Wickham’s quarrel that drove Denny into the hands of his killer, and thus his fault. This is what Wickham, when he comes to his senses maintains. But who this murderer could be and how it was done remains unclear as Wickham goes to trial, defended by the able Jeremiah Mickledore.

It is my impression that James captures the manners and maneuverings that characterize the country houses in Austen, and the affection between Darcy and Elizabeth, such that those who love this genre will be at home. Yet I suspect this is neither the best Austen nor the best James. We barely know Captain Denny before he is killed. I did not feel strongly drawn to any of the characters and only rooted for Wickham because Darcy didn’t want him to be convicted. There is little in the way of a murder investigation and the plot relies on an eleventh hour confession.

As far as I can tell, this was the last work completed by James in her lifetime, when she was in her nineties (she died in 2014). It does not rival her Children of Men or the best of her Dalgleish stories. It is a pleasant diversion and was considered worth of a PBS Masterpiece adaptation in 2014. And it allowed James the satisfaction of having written a Jane Austen novel.

Review: On Reading Well

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On Reading Well

On Reading Well, Karen Swallow Prior. Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2018.

Summary: Makes a case that the reading of great literature may help us live well through cultivating the desire in us to live virtuously and to understand why we are doing so.

Karen Swallow Prior wants us to heed John Milton’s advice to “read promiscuously” great works of literature because they may help the reader distinguish between vice and virtue, and hopefully choose the latter. In doing so, Prior advances an argument contrary to most of contemporary literary criticism that argues against the purpose of teaching literature to form moral character, perhaps most famously argued in Stanley Fish’s Save the World on Your Own Time (review). Prior argues that great books do set before us not only examples of vice and virtue but help us see the telos or purpose or end of living a virtuous life.

Along the way, as she introduces her theme, she proposes some helpful advice for how we might read well, summarized here:

“Read books you enjoy, develop your ability to enjoy challenging reading, read deeply and slowly, and increase your enjoyment of a book by writing words of your own in it.”

Prior then leads us into the practice of reading literature with an eye to what great works might help us understand about specific virtues. Most of this work focuses on twelve virtues in three groups, with a discussion of that virtue being focused on a particular work. While other virtues may be found in each of these works, her discussion is focused around one virtue in each work. Here is how the work is organized:

Part One: The Cardinal Virtues
1. Prudence: The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling by Henry Fielding
2. Temperance: The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
3. Justice: A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
4. Courage: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

Part Two: The Theological Virtues
5. Faith: Silence by Shusaku Endo
6. Hope: The Road by Cormac McCarthy
7. Love: The Death of Ivan Ilych by Leo Tolstoy

Part Three: The Heavenly Virtues
8. Chastity: Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton
9. Diligence: Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan
10. Patience: Persuasion by Jane Austen
11. Kindness: “Tenth of December” by George Saunders
12. Humility: “Revelation” and “Everything That Rises Must Converge” by Flannery O’Connor

One of the effects of reading Prior’s discussion is to introduce us to the vocabulary of virtue, one that may seem archaic for many, and yet is central to the well-lived life. Tom Jones’s observations of the imprudence of many helps us understand that prudence is “right reason direct to the excellent human life.” From The Great Gatsby, we discover that temperance is not abstinence but that “One attains the virtue of temperance when one’s appetites have been shaped such that one’s very desires are in proper order and proportion.” While chastity may often be regarded, in the words of C.S. Lewis, as “the most unpopular of Christian virtues,” we discover through Ethan Frome that “chastity is not withholding but giving” of our bodies in the right context, keeping faith that we say with our bodies what we’ve vowed with our lips and that individual chastity is nourished in a community that healthily values the living of chaste lives.

Prior’s discussion is nuanced, distinguishing between false versions of virtues as well as how each virtue is a mean between an excess and a deficiency. For example, from Jane Austen’s Persuasion, we learn not only that patience is born out of enduring suffering but also that patience is virtuous “only if the cause for which that person suffers is good.” It may not be a virtue to be patient with injustice!

One of the effects of reading this work was to make me want to read or re-read the works she explores in her book. Some, like The Great Gatsby or Ethan Frome, I read in high school. Her chapter on Cormac McCarthy’s The Road and her discussion of hope amid the dystopian setting of the book intrigued me enough to pick up a copy of the book.

I do find it curious that all but one of the writers she chose were westerners of Caucasian descent. The exception is Shusaku Endo and his fine work, Silence (review), in which she explores the virtue of faith. Perhaps her selection reflects her own academic area as a professor of English whose research has focused in the area of Eighteenth century English literature and the work of the Eighteenth century women’s writer, Hannah More. It might be valuable in future editions of this work (for which I hope!) to offer a reading list, perhaps organized around the virtues, of other great works, including those of non-Western authors and Western authors of color.

The book includes a discussion guide at the end, making this a great resource for reading groups, as well as for personal study. The work features delightful illustrations at the beginning of each chapter by artist Ned Bustard (who also drew the cover illustration).

Karen Swallow Prior makes a convincing case in this work for what many of us have intuited–that great literature can change our lives as we reflect on examples of virtue. And far from “spoiling” the great works she discusses, she opens them up in their possibility to instruct us such that we want to go out and read them for ourselves. But before you buy the works she discusses, I would suggest you pick up On Reading Well, because I believe it will enrich your reading of the other books.

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown –The Sulphur Spring and Spring Water Trough

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Sulphur Spring

Sulphur Spring

At one time Mill Creek Park had at least a couple springs that drew people from throughout the area who brought bottles to take the water home to drink. One of these was the Sulphur Spring. The Sulphur Spring was located on the east side of the Mill Creek Gorge below the Idora bridge. Dr. Timothy Woodbridge, who used the Old Log Cabin near Lake Glacier as his medical office, recommended the water as “spa water” to his patients. In a statement given in the July 23, 1900 Vindicator, Volney Rogers said, “I am glad so many persons are visiting this place. We intend to fix up the springs as soon as possible.”

The August 8, 1900 edition of the Vindicator reported, “There is a demand for electric lights, and the Vindicator has been requested that the necessity of such an improvement be called to the attention of the park commissioners.” Apparently people came from early in the morning to late at night to fill bottles with water from the spring, going on hands and knees to grope their way there at night. Crowds brought their own problems though. There were sanitary concerns as many dipped dirty bottles in the spring, making it less palatable for others.

Apparently Dr. Woodbridge’s claims were validated by many people. The August 8, 1900 article goes on to mention, “The water has worked such a world of good to so many people, that they cannot stay away, and the recommend the water cure to all of their friends for anything from an ingrowing toe nail to a broken leg.”

My grandmother swore by the health properties of a different spring, located near Slippery Rock Pavilion, filling a water trough. I remember going with her and my grandfather to fill up jugs of water. She claimed that it cured her of digestive ailments. I tasted some but didn’t think there was anything special about it. In “Mill Creek Park Remembered,” Robert A. Douglas writes, “At the bottom of the hill was the spring water trough. The cold refreshing water cascaded up or flowed down from an unusual faucet. We would always see how high we could make it rise. This was a really natural treat that attracted many people from all around. On hot summer days, people would bring lots of bottles to fill with the cold, clear spring water.”

Volney Rogers foresaw problems when the city decided to channel overflows from storm and sanitary sewers into the park’s waters. With the southward expansion of the city going into Boardman township, Rogers’ fears became reality and problems when high levels of e. coli and other bacteria in the waters made the lakes increasingly unsafe as well as the springs. In 1967, Mayor Anthony Flask recommended substituting city water in all drinking fountains, and subsequently the Sulfur Spring and the water trough at Slippery Rock were capped.

I have no idea why these waters were so popular and believed to have all kinds of curative effects. My grandmother swore by them, as did others I knew growing up. I suspect that whether there was water pollution or not, people today would not have been allowed to fill bottles and consume the water. I suspect liability concerns would have ruled this out. But these springs were yet another feature that made Mill Creek Park an attraction to area residents.

Review: 12 Faithful Men

/ rtrube54 / 6 Comments

12 Faithful Men

12 Faithful Men, Collin Hansen and Jeff Robinson, editors. Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2018.

Summary: Twelve thumbnail biographies focused on pastoral leaders who served faithfully through suffering.

Pastoral ministry is not for sissies, contrary to some popular stereotypes. The hours can be long, you often encounter people at their worst (and sometimes at their best), your call is to be faithful to God’s word, and a shepherd of God’s people. Sooner or later, conflict and criticism homes in on you. Pastors not only help the suffering. If they are at all faithful to their work, they are the suffering.

This is a book to give courage to pastors. It consists of twelve thumbnail biographies of faithful men (I would hope a companion volume on faithful women is forthcoming–there are a host of examples). Some are quite familiar: Paul, John Calvin, John Bunyan, Jonathan Edwards, John Newton, Charles Spurgeon. Some you may have heard of: Andrew Fuller, Charles Simeon, J.C.Ryle. And some like John Chavis, an early Black preacher; Janani Luwum, the Ugandan archbishop martyred under Idi Amin; and Wang Ming-Dao, a Chinese pastor who led the house church movement under Mao.

What they all have in common is that faithfulness in ministry led to some form of suffering. A number went to prison, including Paul, John Bunyan, Luwum, and Wang Ming-Dao. Others faced controversy with their people, including Calvin and Edwards and Simeon. Spurgeon struggled with the black dog of depression throughout his ministry. Chavis, highly educated and even a tutor of white children was barred from preaching, though licensed, simply because he was black.

Each of the biographers in this volume explore the ways these men were formed through suffering. For Paul, suffering portrayed what he proclaimed, focused him on eternal things, authenticated the integrity of his ministry and destroyed self-glory. Calvin came to understand through the suffering of exile the call to exile we all share. Prison plunged Bunyan into the scriptures such that Spurgeon comment that if you cut Bunyan, he would bleed “bibline.” Fuller learned through the heartbreaks of the death of his wife and son, and another wayward son, to give comfort to all who struggled with similar circumstances. Simeon pressed on despite great opposition in prayerful, humble expository ministry from which might be traced the University and Colleges Christian Fellowship in the United Kingdom, InterVarsity/USA and the ministry of John Stott, Kent Hughes and others.

I appreciate the inclusion of examples of African American, Chinese and African examples and would hope that the western Church might hear more examples of Christian faithfulness around the world. In a culture where it seems that the most common prayer is that things would go “smoothly,” the honest portrayal of the various forms of suffering that is the lot of faithful pastors is both a bracing word, and a welcome balm. I suspect many pastors wonder if they are alone, and if they have done something wrong if they are not “prospering.”

The biographies are short, rather than exhaustive, averaging about fifteen pages, making this ideal for devotional reading. While more lengthy and definitive works have been written about many, the focus on the theme of endurance through suffering and God’s provident work makes these pithy biographies welcome support amid the press of pastoral duties. Buy two of these, one for your pastor, and one to understand and pray for her or him (and other faithful pastors around the world).

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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.