Randy Greenwald

I was able to return this morning to my long and slow and unsteady progress through Jonathan Edwards Religious Affections (last post here). Continuing to distinguish between genuine religious affections and hypocrisy, Edwards considered the following criteria:

1) Genuine conversion will soften the heart of the convert, a softening which will endure through time. The hypocrite, the one displaying apparently genuine, but truly false evidence of conversion, will display this tenderness for a time, but it will not last. The hypocrite will over time continue to claim the merits of Christ as savior, but will cease to be concerned about his actual sin, his actual attitude of heart toward this savior whose merits he claims. The truly converted will over time deepen in his appreciation of the holiness of God and whereas he will not be sticken with servile fear in his presence, he will be moved by a growing reverential fear. The greatest saints, Moses, Elijah, Isaiah, were all bold in their approach to God, as those who knew his fatherly affection for them, but approached him nevertheless with a reverence which showed they still saw him as God.

2) Genuine conversion will display itself proportionately, though not perfectly. The truly converted will have many faults and weaknesses. The graces in them will not be perfected in this life, but there will be a proportion among them. The hypocrite will display great fervor and passion in one area, and be monstrously inconsistent in another. The hypocrite may speak of a great love and passion for God, but have nothing but contempt for God’s people. This disproportion exposes the falseness of the source.

* * * *

I have mentioned before that the sensitive conscience can too easily be convinced of its hypocrisy, whereas that very sensitivity of conscience is itself evidence of the ongoing tenderness revealing genuine conversion. While remaining satisfied of our true conversion, it is good to allow Edwards’ precision scalpel to expose real weakness and sin in our own lives.

Intriguing then was Edwards’ reflection in this area on how we can and do strangely bisect people. So, I leave you with this:

Of course any old alarm clock will do. Go to bed on time, set the alarm, and stay up when it awakens you.

Yes, any old alarm clock will do for such a purpose. Pictured, however, is my precious Boston Acoustics Receptor radio. It is simple in design, elegant in appearance, and stunning in sound reproduction. I’m listening to it as I type. This was not cheap and I was enabled to buy this one through the generosity of a friend. When purchased, this mono unit was so well engineered for sound quality that it compared favorably, and in some reviews surpassed, the Bose Wave radio costing twice as much (and occupying three times as much space on the bedside). I expect to be awakened by this solid radio for many years.

This model has been phased out and replaced with a both a mono and a stereo unit.

Yes, any old alarm clock will rouse us for prayer, or work, or whatever. But to have one which is a pleasure to listen to any time, that is a treat.

I’m thinking of taking up the reading of fantasy.

My post from earlier this week has received a number of excellent comments.

But knowing the limited readership of Somber and Dull, I decided to see if I could get the question onto a bigger stage.

Thanks to the kindness of movie critic and fantasy author Jeffrey Overstreet, the question has been posed to his readers, along with some of his intriguing suggestions. Responses from his readers are starting to come in.

Now, where to I fit fantasy reading into my schedule?

This is me:

This is me trying to write a sermon after staying up to watch game 1 of the World Series:

It’s going to be a long day.

I’m envious of our friend KB who listened to the game from her home in Vietnam – a morning game for her.

On Tuesday I raised the concern that many of us as Christians are far too content with our ignorance of major social issues and far to willing to buy a party line without investing any real thought of our own on the subject at hand.

A very thoughtful response was posted in the comments section, and I fear that few other than I ever have the opportunity to read the comments that come in. Sometimes the comments are so substantive that I think many more of us should read them, as is the case here. So, I am posting this comment here for your further reflection and interaction. I posit a further question at the end on which I am interested in your input.

Yes, Randy, I do think that we are too comfortably ignorant on difficult issues, both as a nation and as a Christian community.

My mother has been a fabulous model for me in this regard. She did not attend college but instead worked to pay for my father’s undergraduate and graduate education. She had two children in the 70’s and stayed home with us when all of the other women in her circles were going back to work to do something “important”. I watched her on a daily basis become educated as an “uneducated women” on difficult issues for her. For example, she grew up in a non-sports loving home. My father and little brother love sports, football especially, and so she learned the game. Why? Because she realized that she was missing out on something wonderful? No. She learned the game because she knew it would deepen her relationship with her son. Today, their relationship goes way deeper than football, but I know that becoming fluent in the pigskin language gave her inroads to that deeper relationship. My dad worked his entire career in the nuclear power industry. Again, my mom learned the language and the theories and the problems and positives and could discuss her husband’s line of work almost as well as he could. What a beautiful gift it was to listen to their dinner table conversations!

In the same way, I have found that becoming less ignorant on the topics of the day can deepen my conversations with my non-believing friends. As I’m able to talk the language of the topics that are important to them, then the conversations deepen, and they eventually go to discussions that can be directed toward God and Christ. Knowing political platforms of both parties has enabled me to have great discussions with several non-believing friends that have lead to conversations on morality and then God. Learning a little about the independent, punk rock music industry, while certainly not my favorite topic, has enabled me to have conversations with my CEO-of-a-record-label friend that lets her know I care about what she does (even though I hate that kind of music). That care has opened roads to conversations about the meaning of life and Christ and the Bible. When my husband was a relatively new believer, our pastor went to the wastewater treatment plan where he worked to try and understand his career path a little, even though said pastor could have cared less about a sewage plant. My husband still talks about the impact that had on him.

So, while I do think we have a responsibility as humans to get rid of our ignorance on uncomfortable topics, we have an even greater responsibility as Christians to know about the things that are important to the people to whom God has providentially placed in our paths.

What do we do about it? Three things: stretch ourselves, listen and read. Then read again and again. Read while at the stop lights. Read while waiting at the doctor’s office. Read while watching the World Series!

Great topic! Thanks for bringing it up.

My follow up question is directed to all of you. This comment says we need to read. What, though, should we read? And what else should we / could we do to lessen the ignorance which plagues us? What resources have helped you to stay informed?

I really am interested in your responses. If you don’t want to publish your thoughts as comments here, then email them to me. I’d love to hear what you think.

I love it when others write my posts for me.

This question is from an anonymous mother of four (let the guessing begin…) which I thought would be better answered by some of you than I could do. So help me (and this mother) out!

Last night my husband finished reading the last of The Chronicles of Narnia to our two oldest girls (ages 9 and 6). He’s looking for another fantasy series that is “just as good”. He’ll be hard pressed to find that, I know, but I’m trying hard.

So, questions for you:

1. Do you think nine and six are too young to hear The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings? I read them so long ago that I can’t remember. My gut is telling me that while The Hobbit would be great right now we need to wait a little on LOTR.

2. Do you know anything about The King of Trees? I heard that it is Christian allegory written to bridge the gap between Narnia and LOTR. I haven’t read them.

3. Any other Narnia-type-fantasy-Christian-allegory-series that you would recommend for evening read-aloud time? We’ve done George MacDonald and Nesbit already.

She’s given me until Friday morning to answer. Can you help?

The world is a cruel and heartless place. Outside my window is a hawk with something gripped tightly in its talons at which it occasionally takes a peck. Whatever it is still has some mobility, as the hawk is not completely stable in his ability to feast.

What is poignant is the repeated fly-bys of a much smaller bird – is it a mockingbird? – intended to disrupt the hawk and his meal. The smaller bird’s flight brushes against and under the hawk, but the hawk is undeterred. I presume the hawk has raided the bird’s nest and has taken a child.

This is the world of sin and death. This is what hawks must do to survive.

And it makes me wonder: what will the new earth be like? Will hawks still feast on raided nests? Or will the hawk and mockingbird reside as the lion and the lamb? My mind cannot wrap around that.

I was asked the other day what I thought of Joe Maddon replacing James Shields with Scott Kazmir as the starting pitcher in game 5 of the ALCS. I could answer that query with a well reasoned and informed answer. However, sit me down and ask me to discuss intelligently the state of health care in America, or the merits or demerits of the current administration’s immigration policy, or some other seriously important social issue, and it would not take you long to see the superficial nature of my understanding.

I find that I am a reasonably intelligent guy who has not wanted to invest the same amount of time in processing and understanding serious societal issues as he invests in being conversant on relatively trivial matters in the world of sports.

As a Christian pastor I believe I have some responsibility to help people process life in this modern world and to learn to navigate a path through it, seeking to bring Gospel salt and light to this world. But if I am content to remain only superficially informed of the things that really matter, my effectiveness will be and is seriously hampered.

And those of you who are not pastors cannot hope to bring a distinctive Christian point of view to the issues of our day (as opposed to merely liberal or conservative points of view) if you ignore these issues, merely dabble in them, or depend solely upon talk radio for your insights.

I was set upon this way of thinking by James Fallows’ reflections regarding an interview Sarah Palin gave shortly after her nomination. I’m not advocating Fallows’ politics here nor am I expressing an opinion regarding Palin’s suitability for office (a question on which Fallows has no doubt). What he observed, rightly or wrongly, was the impression that she lacked any deeply held interest in foreign policy issues. Again, his assessment may be way off base. I’m not raising that issue. But what he says here has implications for any of us. Here is what he said:

Each of us has areas we care about, and areas we don’t. If we are interested in a topic, we follow its development over the years. And because we have followed its development, we’re able to talk and think about it in a “rounded” way. We can say: Most people think X, but I really think Y. Or: most people used to think P, but now they think Q. Or: the point most people miss is Z. Or: the question I’d really like to hear answered is A.

Here’s the most obvious example in daily life: Sports Talk radio.

Mention a name or theme – Brett Favre, the Patriots under Belichick, Lance Armstrong’s comeback, Venus and Serena – and anyone who cares about sports can have a very sophisticated discussion about the ins and outs and myth and realities and arguments and rebuttals.

People who don’t like sports can’t do that. It’s not so much that they can’t identify the names – they’ve heard of Armstrong – but they’ve never bothered to follow the flow of debate. I like sports – and politics and tech and other topics – so I like joining these debates. On a wide range of other topics – fashion, antique furniture, the world of restaurants and fine dining, or (blush) opera – I have not been interested enough to learn anything I can add to the discussion. So I embarrass myself if I have to express a view.

I’m not suggesting that each of us should be expert in everything. But to what degree do we wrongly leave to others discussion and comprehension of the serious issues of the day?

I’m very interested in what others think about this? Are we too comfortably ignorant on difficult issues? If so, what should we do about it?

If you do not live in the Tampa Bay area, you are probably unfamiliar with the local mohawk fad. You see, as a sign of team solidarity, the Tampa Bay Rays team members (and even manager Joe Maddon) began sporting mohawk haircuts. Soon, the fans got in on the act. One local kid was sent to in-school suspension for wearing one to school. (He was eventually rewarded by being granted on-field access before one of the recent playoff games by players who did not want to see a fan punished!)

Not wanting to be left behind, Colin and I visited our beloved Barb(er) tonight to celebrate the Rays winning the American League Championship. My hair is not quite long enough to make the mohawk obvious. Colin, however, looks sharp!