[W]e desperately want to be saved. We want to find some person, or some philosophy of life, that will spare us the fear or discomfort or self-doubt or tedium that so often seems to come along for the ride, whenever we try to make progress on things we care about. We hate feeling yoked to reality in such an unpleasant way; we long instead to soar above it, in a realm free from problems. And it’s the mark of a bad self-help book, a dodgy spiritual guru or an incompetent therapist that they’ll be only too happy to encourage the illusion that this might one day be possible.
I don’t think people generally seek out such quick fixes or back-door solutions out of laziness or entitlement. It’s not because they think they shouldn’t have to put in the same effort as everyone else. Rather, most of the time, it’s the opposite: it’s that they feel so inadequate and unqualified for the task ahead of them (of writing, of marriage, parenting – whatever) that they believe they absolutely need a miracle technique, some sort of edge over other people, some secret from a book, if they’re to have half a chance of not screwing everything up. They don’t realise that everyone else is just winging it, too – and that all they need to do is the straightforward thing that’s been staring them in the face all along: to just write for a few hours a week; to sit down for a few minutes and meditate; to be the most loving spouse or parent they’re capable of being on this particular day, and so on.
Music to my ears: Jen Pollock Michel criticizes the tendency of elevating “efficiency” to the status of unqualified virtue; she argues instead for patiently undergoing the passage of time as the necessary means of enjoying God’s “slow” work in one’s life.
Currently reading: Serving a Movement by Timothy Keller 📚
McWay Rocks II (Big Sur) by Tom Killion:
Mt. Tamalpais from Corte Madera Creek II by Tom Killion:
Finished reading: Christ-Centered Preaching by Bryan Chapell 📚
Can’t imagine a preacher who wouldn’t be helped by this volume.
Kristyn and I finally sat down to watch Conclave last night. A gripping film that raises some rather unsettling questions. Worth a watch for sure.
I’ve had a contrarian streak that dates back to when I was much younger, though it seems to be waning in recent years. Perhaps that’s a normal cycle of development…? Anyway, one negative consequence of being a contrarian is that you miss out on some really good things for the simple reason that too many other people like them. This means that now, in my mid-thirties, I’m appreciating authors/artists/etc that I could’ve been enjoying for decades. A few examples:
- C. S. Lewis: Lewis's ubiquity in Christian circles certainly made him suspect in my eyes, but there was also the alleged theological squishiness. As a new Christian who quickly gravitated to the austerity of the reformed tradition, I viewed his "flowery language" as evasive. I'm now doing penance by working my way through all his books, which I expect to do, Lord willing, several more times over the course of my life.
- The Beatles: There's really no excuse here. My mom had every Beatles album on vinyl. I was just convinced that the whole world was wrong; there was no use arguing with me about it. I now understand, only recently, what others have known since the '60s: that the Beatles are the best band of all time.
- Tim Keller: I've always had a general respect—a vague appreciation—for Keller. But I still didn't get why there were so many fanboys. As my ministry journey has shifted toward planting a church in a fairly large and culturally vibrant city (Austin), I figured it was time to see what all the fuss was about. Turns out: Keller was absolutely the real deal. Center Church was a revelation for me. His preaching is so helpful and easy to follow, yet completely impossible to emulate. His ability to synthesize large swaths of intellectual history into coherent and practical (!) resources is perhaps his most under-appreciated skill. I'll be learning from him for decades.
I’m sure there are more, but these come to mind at the moment.