May 18, 2024

Glamorous Powers By Susan Howatch

Glamorous PowersGlamorous Powers
By Susan Howatch
Rating: 7 of 10

Having just finished the second in this Church of England series by Susan Howatch, I’m both enthralled and a little cautious with where this whole thing is going.  I’m beginning to think that Howatch is primarily interested in the question of deception: self-deception and the deception of others.  In both of the first two books, the main characters, Charles Ashworth and Jonathan Darrow, battle against both forms of deception primarily through the practice of confession to a spiritual director.

Howatch depicts in great detail the kinds of conversations that might happen between a directee and director.  There is no Carl Rogers “unconditional positive regard” in these interactions.  They resemble more a war of deception and anti-deception.  The director asks questions, make statements, suggests interpretations, contradicts, encourages, argues, and more in an effort to tear down the deceptive defenses that the directee is building around him.

This kind of interaction is both grueling and seemingly self-destructive except for the commitment of the truth-telling Christian community that surrounds it.  I’m enthralled with the depth of vulnerable relationships that develop between Ashworth (directee) and Darrow (director) in the first book, Glittering Images (reviewed here), and then turning things around between Darrow (directee) and Francis (director) in the second.  I’m even a little more than enthralled.  I’m envious.  When was the last time you had someone ask you really hard questions about your motivations for doing something?  I’m not talking about just one question, but several questions, over several days, even weeks.  When were you really ever open to such a grueling examen?  It does of course slow decision making down considerably!  Reading these books is putting in me a desire for that kind of truth-telling Christian community and the practices of confession that sustain it.

And yet I am a little cautious with the end goal of where Howatch is taking this practice of truth-telling.  The whole endeavor is so highly psychologized (sometimes explicitly so and other times implicitly) that one gets the impression that without years of psychoanalysis-like therapy one won’t find forgiveness and freedom in human relationships.

In each book the fundamental conflict for the main character turns out to be with his father (I wonder if that would hold true had the main characters been women rather than men?).  It isn’t until the character recognizes this fundamental conflict and understands it clearly and fully that he is able to move forward with healthy relationships in the present.  There is, I think, a great amount of wisdom in this idea, but there is also the potential of great danger too.

Howatch’s conception of “salvation” seems to be based in gaining the right knowledge about one’s past.  The problem with this is that we can never gain complete knowledge about our past.  Our self-understanding will always be finite.  We can gain some understanding that will help us in the present, but there are always more and more layers of brokenness and sinfulness to be found, explored, catalogued, understood, and confessed.  The good news of Jesus Christ is that we can be saved whether we understand all this or not.  Salvation (not just from guilt but also from brokenness) is a gift of God’s grace that does come at times in the form of knowledge and understanding, but at other times God works whether we understand it or not.

There are moments where Darrow receives a gift of peace and forgiveness from God in a mystical kind of way that is separate from the knowledge gained in the practice of spiritual direction and confession, but the overarching thrust of both books tends toward knowledge of the past as salvation.  Knowledge becomes the glamorous power rather than God’s grace.

Currently Reading/Listening:
The Shack
by William P. Young
Following Jesus in a Culture of Fear
by Scott Bader-Saye
Documents in Early Christian Thought
edited by Wiles and Sante
Generation to Generation
by Edwin H. Friedman
Turning Points
by Mark Noll
Sacred Parenting by Gary Thomas
From Jesus to Constantine
by Bart Ehrman
Essential Church by Thom S. Rainer and Sam S. Rainer
unChristian by David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons
Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand

Glittering Images

Glittering ImagesGlittering Images
By Susan Howatch
Rating: 7 of 10

Glittering Images was a page-turner that I was a little embarrassed to be so engrossed in reading.  Susan Howatch tells the story of Charles Asworth, a Church of England priest, who is sent on a spy mission by the Archbishop of Canterbury to uncover any sexual improprieties in the life of the bishop of Starbridge, Alex Jardine.  Along the way Ashworth falls head over heals for Jardine’s wife’s companion, Lyle, experiences several sexual improprieties of his own with one of Jardine’s past flings, Loretta, and has an overall emotional, psychological and spiritual breakdown.  He wades through his current actions and his past history that contributed to those actions with the help of spiritual direction given by a monk, Jonathan Darrow.  While the narrative read at times a little bit like a woman writing the thoughts of men, overall it was a compelling storyline, and Howatch does a good job at delving into the psyche of a clergyman.

If all I was looking for in this novel was a compelling narrative, I’d probably be more than satisfied.  At times I couldn’t put it down.  I had to keep reading to see what would happen next.  But anytime an author sets the narrative in an ecclesial setting and delves into theological issues, I have a hard time ignoring some of the details.

Glittering Images is an example of the triumph of psychological language over theological language.  I don’t have a general problem with psychological language, I was a psychology major in undergraduate, but often times the languages carries with it unexpected baggage that shifts the meaning of the theological understanding.  Let me explain by way of example.

After Ashworth experiences his total breakdown, he is brought to the door of Darrow, his spiritual director, by Loretta, the woman he has just had a sexual encounter with, because he is too drunk to drive himself.  Darrow immediately begins a process of getting Darrow sober enough to do what he needs to do to get back into good graces with God and his vocation as a clergyman.

Once Ashworth is sober, he is ready to confess to Darrow what he has done, do his penance, and receive the sacrament so that he can be in good standing again, but Darrow is not satisfied with a simple recounting of Ashworth’s present sexual sins.  He tells Ashworth, “Your behavior with Loretta can’t be confessed in isolation because such a confession would inevitable be inadequate.  And can you in all conscience receive the sacrament after an inadequate confession of at least one disabling sin?”  At another time Darrow tells Ashworth that they must get at the “mystery behind the mystery.”

The “mystery behind the mystery” ends up being an adequate psychological understanding and explanation of everything in Ashworth’s life that led him to those moments of sexual sin.  EVERYTHING.  His parents.  His schooling.  His vocation.  The men he has worked with.  His marriage.  His wife’s death.  His coping mechanisms with her death.  His sexual sins up to this point.  His relationship with his father.  His father’s relationship with his father.  His father’s relationship with his mother.  His mother’s past relationships.  Jardine’s relationships with women.  Jardine’s relationship with his wife.  Jardine’s relationship with Lyle.  Ashworth’s relationship with Lyle.  Ashworth’s relationship with Jardine.  And on and on and on.

Don’t get me wrong.  I was enthralled with it all.  (Maybe a little too much!  I’ve put the next book on hold at the library.)  I even think that this deep kind of explanation of the sinful brokenness of Ashworth’s relationships and all the relationships around him is a very helpful exercise.  While in college, I did some of this kind of work myself with a counselor and have occasionally revisited some of these kinds of issues since then.  Doing so has been immensely helpful in untangling the brokenness in my own life and cutting out the cycles of sin, but if an adequate explanation of our psychological histories is required for us to confess to a present sin and receive communion, then are we ever fully able to come to the table in good faith?  I fear we are back to feeling unworthy of receiving God’s grace in the body and blood of Jesus, the bread and the wine.  Yes!  We are unworthy!  Thank you, God, for giving it to us anyway!

Perhaps this is a theological quibble that I should ignore, or perhaps this is only a plot device to tell the story Howatch wants to tell, but it has the potential of leaving the reader with the impression that they must be able to explain all the roots of their sin in excessive thoroughness before they can receive communion.  Here’s what I say: Confess what sin you understand now and then receive communion and God’s grace to help you confess more.

Currently Reading/Listening:
The Shack
by William P. Young
Following Jesus in a Culture of Fear
by Scott Bader-Saye
Documents in Early Christian Thought
edited by Wiles and Sante
Generation to Generation
by Edwin H. Friedman
Turning Points
by Mark Noll
Sacred Parenting by Gary Thomas
From Jesus to Constantine
by Bart Ehrman

Imperium by Robert Harris

Imperium
By Robert Harris
Audio Book
Read by Simon Jones
Rating: 10 out of 10

“Imperium” is Latin for “power” and that’s what this book is about, the use of power, especially the power of words.  This gripping novel is the story of Cicero as told by his slave and secretary Tiro, who is the founder of short-hand.  Imperium is something of a cross between historical fiction and a courtroom drama with all the twists and turns associated with a page-turner.  I found myself longing for a long ride in the car so that I could listen further.  I even sat in the garage several times waiting for the climactic end of a particular situation.

Imperium was recommended in my seminary alumni magazine by my church history professor, Warren Smith.  Smith was one of my favorite professors, and his influence on me obviously continues with this recommendation.

Throughout the story we hear about Cicero navigating the political power structures of his day outsmarting those who are in more powerful positions simply by his wit and clever arguments.  But we also see Cicero’s integrity beginning to blur as he encounters situations that cause him to pit his better judgment against his ambition to be the proconsul of the Roman senate, the highest elected position possible.  Cicero certainly makes some decisions that the reader has to wonder about and throws his lot in with some shady characters, but when push comes to shove, Cicero’s character wins out of his ambition.  He is willing to give only so much to become proconsul.

I found myself regularly asking questions about the use of power as I listened to Simon Jones incredible “performance” of this novel.  As a pastor my primary tool to motivate is words.  Whether they are the public words I use in a sermon or the private words I use in personal meetings, words are the raw materials of the pastor’s craft.  How do I use words and at the same time remain a person of integrity in their use?  Are there ways that I use words that tend to manipulate or overpower by their wit or cleverness?  In the midst of these questions I am reminded of John Wesley who always tried to say things as “plainly” as possible.

At the same time that I was asking these questions about words and their use, an old interest in classical rhetorical skill was being rekindled in me.  I have in the past looked up a book on classic rhetoric and preaching but have never read it.  Imperium inspired me to revisit Lucy Lind Hogan and Robert Reid’s Connecting with the Congregation: Rhetoric and the Art of Preaching.  I haven’t yet read it, but it’s now sitting in my “to read” pile.

If you like historical fiction, Roman history, or courtroom dramas, you’ll love this book.  You’ll be immersed in the politics of ancient Rome in a way that will shed considerable light on Western civilization, and Imperium is as entertaining and gripping as it is informative.  Cicero would be proud.

Currently Reading/Listening:
American Saint: Francis Asbury and the Methodists
by John H. Wigger
The Shack by William P. Young
Following Jesus in a Culture of Fear by Scott Bader-Saye
Documents in Early Christian Thought edited by Wiles and Sante
Generation to Generation
by Edwin H. Friedman
Last Call
by Daniel Okrent
Turning Points by Mark Noll
A People’s History of Christianity by Diane Butler Bass

The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis

The Great DivorceThe Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis
Audio Book (read by Robert Whitfield)
February 27, 2010
© Tom Arthur
Rating: 10 out of 10

This is the best audio book I have ever listened to. The reasons for this are two-fold. First, C.S. Lewis’ The Great Divorce is a masterfully imaginative reflection upon heaven and hell. Second, the reader, Robert Whitfield, is absolutely enthralling. Let me begin with the later.

I have never before listened to such a creative portrayal of a novel brought to life in an audio book. Whitfield makes each and every character in The Great Divorce jump off the page, or out of your speakers. Every character has a different voice and Whitfield even convincingly pulls off all the different female characters. He moves from a Scottish brogue to an Irish accent and back to an English inflection seemingly effortlessly. His voice was like ear candy. I have never before looked up a reader to see what other audio books he has read. I plan to listen to several of them, especially the novels.

Now to the content of The Great Divorce. The idea of The Great Divorce is a simple one: a bus departs daily from hell to heaven. Those who are in hell may ride it any time they want. What they find in heaven isn’t quite what they expect. Each person from hell meets someone in heaven whom they knew in their life. These past acquaintances, friends, or family members attempt to help them adjust to heaven. Most of those from hell like hell better, and decide to go back. Their reasons for doing so are manifold, and it is here that the reader sees Lewis’ genius as an observer of human nature.

Most people in hell don’t want to give something up to stay in heaven. The character of what they find in heaven is magnitudes better than what they find in hell, but they have become so familiar with their own flaws that put them in hell that they are loath to give them up. Those characteristics and values have become so much a part of their identity that they seem lost without them. Take for example the theologian who likes the idea of God more than God, Godself. Or the mother whose son died and prefers “loving” her son by grieving rather than loving her son by giving him up. Or the crooked manager who thinks he was a good and decent person when he really was not. Maybe one of the most tragic is the husband who always plays the martyr to his wife and isn’t willing to give up the grudges that he holds against her.

There are, of course, moments when those who are visiting heaven have a break through. One such man has a lizard on his shoulder that is hurting him. He meets an angel who offers to kill it. After much debate, the man finally allows the angel to kill the lizard. It is cast to the ground and arises as a great stallion. The man then rides the stallion off into deeper heaven. We are told that in heaven the fleshly passions are driven by the person rather than the person driven by fleshly desire.

In the preface Lewis claims that this book is not a theological work about heaven and hell, but I think Lewis is selling himself short. Certainly the details are all a work of Lewis’ imagination, but the basic premise that heaven is a place some people will choose not to like seems biblical to me. The emphasis of our culture is toward a universalist desire when it comes to heaven. We don’t want anyone in hell, but what makes us think that someone who didn’t like God when he or she was alive will like God any more when met face to face? I suspect what they find will terrify them. In this sense, they choose hell over heaven. The Great Divorce helps us wrap our minds around a conception of heaven and hell that is both realistic in its judgment of humanity and at the same time compassionate. Between Lewis’ notion of heaven and hell and our culture’s exists a great divorce.

C.S. Lewis FestivalNote:
While living in Petoskey, I helped found the annual Northern Michigan C.S. Lewis Festival.  This festival began as a month-long collaborative event between the arts, education, and faith communities.  While its focus has remained in the fall, the festival  has since my days leading it expanded to host events year-round.  A trip to Narnia and the North is well worth it.

Currently Reading/Listening:
Misquoting Jesus (audio book) by Bart Ehrman
Playing the Enemy (audio book) by John Carlin
American Saint: Francis Asbury and the Methodists by John H. Wigger
An Introduction to Pastoral Care by Charles V. Gerkin
Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift

Christ the Lord Out of Egypt by Anne Rice

Christ the Lord out of EgyptChrist the Lord Out of Egypt by Anne Rice
Audio Book
February 18, 2010

Tom Arthur
Rating: 8 out of 10

 

After reading Anne Rice’s spiritual memoir Called out of Darkness, I was intrigued to read her novels about Jesus.  Rice takes on a huge challenge: writing first person from the perspective of Jesus, Christ the Lord.  What was she thinking?!

Despite the challenges, Rice does a pretty impressive job of pulling off the whole thing.  The primary conflict driving the plot is Jesus’ own growing knowledge and understanding of his unique birth and history.  We hear Jesus’ own internal thoughts as he gains pieces of the puzzle and begins putting them together to make a coherent picture and narrative.  On this level of story telling, Rice excels, but she takes it a step further by drawing upon a vast amount of research on who Jesus would have been growing up first in Egypt and then in Israel as a Jewish boy.  Like her other novels, the historical details are immaculate.

The most intriguing aspect of Jesus’ Jewishness is that swirling around him is a mass of political turmoil and revolution.  Jesus sees first hand Roman soldiers kill Jewish civilians as they attempt to put down revolutionary riots in the temple courts of Jerusalem.  Jesus also experiences Jewish revolutionaries who steal from Jewish civilians in Nazareth to fund their marauding bands, and he witnesses the Roman mass execution of these revolutionaries by means of crosses lining the roads around Nazareth.

While Rice does not say where she is going with all this, I suspect that she is building a case for the radical nature of Jesus’ command to love one’s enemies.  It would be easy to see a young Jewish boy growing up in these circumstances either becoming cynical and nihilistic or joining in the revolutionary fervor, but Jesus is destined to do neither of these things.  Rather, he will command his followers to turn the other cheek and love even those who persecute you.  That’s a new kind of revolution.

 

 

Currently Reading/Listening:
Misquoting Jesus
(audio book) by Bart Ehrman
The Great Divorce
(audio book) by C.S. Lewis
American Saint: Francis Asbury and the Methodists by John H. Wigger
An Introduction to Pastoral Care
by Charles V. Gerkin
Gulliver’s Travels
by Jonathan Swift
Community Gardening
by Ellen Kirby and Elizabeth Peters

Many Waters by Madeline L’Engle

Many WatersMany Waters by Madeline L’Engle
February 15, 2010
© Tom Arthur
Rating: 6 of 10

Many Waters is the fourth in Madeline L’Engle’s time quintet, which began with the well-known Wrinkle in Time.  Each of these books follows the Murry family as they travel across time and space on various adventures to save the world.  Many Waters follows the twin brothers, Sandy and Dennys, as they accidentally walk in on one of their father’s experiments and are transported back in time and into the story of Noah and the flood.  Two key motifs show up over and over: the question of theodicy (how to believe in a good God while evil persists) and the question of faith and belief.

The story of Noah and the flood is ripe for an exploration of theodicy.  How is it that a good God could wipe out everyone on the earth with a massive flood while only saving one family?  Sandy and Dennys and the rest of Noah’s family wrestle with this question throughout the book.  At the beginning of the story Sandy and Dennys show up in the dessert and are ill prepared for survival in this harsh climate.  Noah’s family finds them and begins to nurse them back to health.  When Noah first comes across Dennys in his tent, he speaks what seem like harsh words to his daughter saying, “You will have to learn, daughter, that you cannot nurse every broken-winged bird or wounded salamander back to health.”  “I can try!” she says.  Noah responds, “Perhaps you make them suffer more that way…than if you let them die?” (85).  This is a kind of realistic approach to the question of suffering.  Interestingly, Noah’s daughter does not let Dennys die, and he and his brother end up playing a significant role in reconciling Noah and his father.

Toward the end of the story, the question of suffering comes up again.  As the seraphim (angels) are discussing why El (God) would have Dennys and Sandy to travel across time, one of them says, “I do not think El sent them.  But neither did El prevent their coming” (345).  While the seraphim are not directly discussing the question of suffering, we catch a glimpse into L’Engle’s idea about how God’s sovereignty over creation works.  God does not necessarily cause everything to happen, but God does not prevent every evil thing from happening either.

The question of faith and belief shows up over and over throughout Many Waters.  The key plot device that explores the relationship between faith and belief is the appearance of unicorns.  They have to be believed in before they will appear.  At one point when Sandy is being held prisoner he remembers how a unicorn could help him escape.  He hears “in his mind’s ear” that “some things have to be believed to be seen” (290).  Sandy is able to believe in unicorns at this point and one appears and helps him escape.  This is a classic question of whether faith comes before or after believing.  St. Augustine taught that believing is a function of faith.  St. Anselm spoke of faith seeking understanding.  Our Western way of learning has turned this order around saying that we must see something and believe it before we can have faith; we must understand before we are able to have faith.  What we have become blind to is how much faith is involved in believing anything, even scientific claims!  (For a further exploration of the role of faith in science see Lesslie Newbigin’s Proper Confidence).  I think L’Engle is at her best when these kinds of issues come up.

While these two questions are important questions for many people, I did not always find L’Engle’s exploration of theodicy compelling, but I did appreciate her insight into the relationship of faith and belief.  Perhaps some of my disappointment with the question of theodicy was due to the story itself dragging at times.  Occasionally I wanted a chapter to end so I could get on with the story (the role of the Nephilim or the “sons of God” is particularly interesting).  Overall Many Waters is an imaginative exploration of the story of Noah and the flood that many readers will find intriguing, and will help some readers consider new ways of thinking about some difficult questions.

Currently Reading/Listening:
Misquoting Jesus (audio book) by Bart Ehrman
American Saint: Francis Asbury and the Methodists by John H. Wigger
An Introduction to Pastoral Care by Charles V. Gerkin

Tales from Watership Down by Richard Adams

Tales from Watership DownTales from Watership Down by Richard Adams
Jauary 29, 2010
©
Tom Arthur
Rating: 4 out of 10

I suppose the letdown was inevitable.  I was so delighted by Watership Down (read my review here) that when I saw that Richard Adams had written a sequel, I immediately checked it out of the library and dove in.  I was disappointed to find out that the sequel doesn’t really have any coherent plot line.  It is very much like reading Tolkien’s posthumously published Histories of Middle Earth.  As the title of this book implies, Richard Adams has really written several short stories about the characters of Watership Down and compiled them in this book.  There are three parts to the book.  The first two have to do with the stories and mythology of El-ahrairah, the legendary rabbit of universal rabbit lore.  In the original Watership Down, these stories of El-ahrairah played the role of shaping the imagination of the rabbits so that they could envision different possibilities to the obstacles of rabbit-life.  Taken out of the context, these stories of El-ahriairah are quaint, but not nearly as engaging.   There’s not much else to say about this book.  If you want to live a little while longer in the world of Watership Down, you’ll enjoy reading this book, but you might be disappointed by what you find.

Currently Reading/Listening:
Misquoting Jesus (audio book) by Bart Ehrman
American Saint: Francis Asbury and the Methodists by John H. Wigger
An Introduction to Pastoral Care by Charles V. Gerkin
Many Waters by Madeline L’Engle