Category Archives: book reviews

Book Review: Winchester’s "The Life of John Wesley"

It might not make much sense to review a book that’s over 100 years old. It’s not as if my words will send people flocking to Barnes & Noble to buy it. Nor is anyone likely to be clamoring for it. But if it’s a book I’ve read, I feel as if I should review it.

The book is The Life of John Wesley by C.T. Winchester. My copy was published by The MacMillan Company in New York in 1906. I believe, from the copyright page, that it is a first edition, second printing book. I’m not sure where I got this book. Possibly at a thrift store or garage sale. Or maybe it was in some books given me for my son-in-law by a retired preacher. I let Richard take what he wanted the culled through the others, keeping some, adding some others to the garage sale pile. Either way, I love books, especially old books, and especially books by or about people like John Wesley.

At the time of the writing Wesley had been dead 114 years. His influence in the world had waned quite a bit. Methodism was still growing, but they weren’t exactly practicing it the way Wesley recommended. Already a number of biographies had been written, maybe five or six. Why another one? Well, aside from Emerson’s theory that each generation has to write for the next, adding to and somewhat replacing those of prior generations, Winchester said in his preference that early biographies were almost all done by Methodists, and so could be seen as biased. So Winchester wrote his.
It’s not a long book; 293 pages, decent size font and not large pages. In fact, it’s fairly short as a biography of a major religious reformer. I have not read the prior Wesley biographies, by the likes of Clarke, Watson, Moore, Southey, Stevens, Lelievre, Overton, and Telford (I guess that’s eight, not five or six). I’ve read one or two written much later, in the 1960s or 70s. So I don’t really know how Winchester’s treatment differs from those who went before or came behind him.
I just know this was a good read. It’s late enough in world history that the language is modern, the scholarship seems good, and Wesley’s place in history was well established. Winchester spends time discussing Wesley’s time, to demonstrate the impact he had: how awful social conditions were in Great Britain and Ireland when Wesley began his work, and how they changed as a result of it. I have heard it said that the impact Wesley had on English society—not just among the people called Methodists but on the Established Church and elsewhere—may well have saved England from a French style bloody revolution. I don’t know if that’s true, but it is true that Wesley changed England.

He wasn’t the preacher-evangelist Whitefiled was. He wasn’t the philosopher Johnson was. He wasn’t as deep a theologian as Calvin was. But he had a combination of abilities (I believe “skill set” is the new buzz word) that embraced all of these and more, that allowed him to build a religious movement. Winchester clearly demonstrates this.
I anticipate that, as I write my small group study on the life and works of John Wesley, that I’ll read more of those biographies. Anything before 1923 should be available on Google books, and I’ve got another one in hand I can read (or maybe re-read). Winchester’s will stand out, however, as the first one I read as research for my book.

Book Review – One Writer’s Beginning by Eudora Welty

Eudora Welty is one writer I don’t remember reading. Possibly in an English class somewhere we were assigned one of her stories and I read it. I know I haven’t read any of her novels. Yet, when I saw the small paperback One Writer’s Beginning at a thrift store for 50 cents, I bought it. I was pretty sure I would gain something from it.

The book was assembled from lectures Welty gave at Harvard University in 1983. She was from Jackson, Mississippi, to parents who moved there from Ohio and West Virginia when they were married in 1904. Welty was born the next year, to be joined by two brothers over the next five years. In the first part of the book, titled “Listening”, Welty tells how her earliest childhood years, and how they fed her imagination. She doesn’t talk about writing at all.

In the next section, “Learning To See”, she tells of family vacations back to Ohio and West Virginia, and spending time with the extended family. Train trips and road trips are part of this section. A road trip in 1917 was quite an adventure. Each set of grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins had an impact on Eudora. From abundant story telling on her mom’s side to an absolute ignoring of the past for sake of looking toward the future on her dad’s, she learned to look to the past and the future.

The third section, “Finding A Voice,” is where Welty tells how the events of her life became scenes in stories, and neighbors and teachers became characters. Welty even says how she put some of herself into one character.

All in all, the book didn’t give a lot of information for writing help. It was not inspirational, or motivational. It didn’t really provide hints on the writing craft. it’s a straight memoir. If it had anything to help a writer it was: Use the events and people in your life to populate your stories. That’s not exactly an earth-shattering revelation. Despite the lack of immediate benefit, I’m going to keep the book, and possibly re-read it in a few years.

The previous owner of this book made a note here and there. Inside the back was written, “Purchased at University of Arkansas Fayetteville, Ark June 1987”. Most of the marginalia was a single word, such as “genealogy,” “scenes,” “library,” “Latin”. Many words or phrases are underlined. But, what caught my eye was the single word written on the introductory page: “Interesting”. Ah ha, Dr. Farina, former high school English classmate. I’m not the only one who find that an acceptable word to characterize reaction to a composition.

More Thoughts on Children of Dune and the Dune Trilogy

I haven’t read much science fiction. Twenty years ago I read Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series of five books, the original trilogy and the next two. From time to time I would pick up a sci fi book and get through it, but never with enough interest to cause me to seek more by the author. Of course, a number of sci fi movies have caught my fancy.

As a writer, a sci fi series has been occupying a few gray cells. But as a non-reader of sci fi, I can’t really hope to write effective sci fi. That’s okay, because I’ve plenty of other novels and non-fiction books and ideas consuming other gray cells. Still, if this near future series keeps coming to the surface, maybe I should pay more attention to sci fi and develop more of an eye and ear for it.

So what did I find right with Children of Dune and with the Dune Trilogy I’ve now finished? One thing was the obvious borrowing from the Arabic language and the desert culture of the Middle East and Africa. Frank Herbert uses a few words straight from the Arabic in their actual meaning, such as hajj and jihad. Otherwise much of the language is similar to Arabic.

The development of a desert ecosystem on the planet Arrakis, a.k.a. Dune, was impressive. The importance of water and how the Fremen, the desert dwellers of Dune, use and preserve it was well done. For a Fremen to spit in welcome of a guest is a sign of respect. When 14-year old Paul Atreides killed his first man in hand-to-hand combat, he cried. The Fremen were impressed that he “gave water for the dead.” When a person dies, the body is rendered for the water because “His water belongs to the tribe.” All Fremen wear a stil suit, which prevents their water from escaping into the desert atmosphere. And they always take a fremkit into the desert with them.

But the most interesting part of the desert ecosystem is the sand worm, worshiped by Fremen as Shai H’lud. Water poisons the worms, but somehow they thrive in the arid lands and grow to enormous size, some the length of a football field with a mouth 10 yards wide. They are deadly, and are attracted to any rhythmic noise. The Fremen know this, and from childhood learn to walk in the desert in a non-rhythmic way and thus do not attract the worms.

Unless they want to. The worms live mostly underground and bore through the sand, but move at good speed. The Fremen have learned that, when the worm breeches the ground, you can crawl up on the worm and insert hooks under the worm’s segmental rings. The worm cannot “submerge” in the sand when their rings are separated. So they move on the surface, and a skilled Fremen can ride the worm for hours, directing it in any direction.

The worms make a spice called melange. I don’t know if this is a type of worm excrement, or if they make it in the way bees make honey. Indigo in color, it is some kind of narcotic. The Fremen mine it and consume so much of it their eyes turn light blue on dark blue. Somehow it is essential for space navigation, but the three books never explain exactly how. Is it also a fuel? Or is the money from the spice trade what finances space travel? I would have liked to have that explained. The spice is the reason Arrakis is a desired planet, and becomes the place of legends and smuggling.

In Children of Dune, much effort has been put into transforming the desert planet into a well-watered land, filled with flora and fauna. The effort has the effect of limiting the worms’ territory. Their population is shrinking, and they will be extinct within two centuries. No worms, no spice. No spice, no space travel. No spice, no value to Arrakis. Only Leto, the seven year old son of Paul Atreides seems to understand this. His quest to reverse this is an underlying theme of the book.

All of this takes significant development and creativity by the author. As I spend time on writers sites, it seems everyone is writing sci fi and its close cousin, fantasy. I think the idea is that no research is required, whereas it is in most other genres of fiction. But this seems wrong. The author of sci fi probably has more development time than does the writer of other genres. All the back story, all the unwritten centuries or millenia, must be in the author’s mind. Knowing how much to share in a book or a series is a difficult decision for the author.

And Herbert is certainly a master of all of this. I’ve been critical of him for not giving quite enough back story for my liking. And I’ve criticized his writing style, especially in the last of the trilogy. But I cannot fault his development of the fantasy world of times in the future. Very well done.

Book Review – Children of Dune

In an earlier post I mentioned I was not enjoying Children of Dune, the third in Frank Herbert’s Dune trilogy. Only 40 percent into it at that time, I was determined to finish it and hope either it got better or I came to like the style. I finished it today, and here’s the report: it didn’t, and I didn’t.

Dune, the original of the series, was a challenge due to its length and the large number of terms to learn. Dune Messiah was difficult due to introduction of situation that were never fully explained, as well as for some back story left out that would have been helpful. Children of Dune was difficult because of the seemingly unending internal thoughts/monologue and the under-explained “Golden Path” that is the obsession of Leto Atreides, child heir apparent to rule the empire.

I’ve no doubt that Frank Herbert knew exactly what he meant with all of the strange statements made by the various characters, but none of them did to me. Characters frequently interrupted the others during dialog, and the partial statements made no sense. Here’s a couple of examples.

But a coward, even a coward, might die bravely with nothing but a gesture. Where was that gesture which could make him whole once more? How could he awaken from trance and vision into the universe which Gurney demanded? Without that turning, without an awakening from aimless visions, he knew he could die in a prison of his own choosing.

His vision-shrouded eyes saw her as a creature out of humankind’s Terranic past: dark hair and pale skin, deep sockets which gave her blue-in-blue eyes a greenish cast. She possessed a small nose and a wide mouth above a sharp chin. And she was a living signal to him that the Bene Gessirit plan was known—or suspected—here in Jacurutu. So they hoped to revive Pharaonic Imperialism through him, did they?

The lack of context will make it difficult to appreciate these passages. They are representative of so much of the book. Lots of terms to understand. Lots of thoughts to process. Incomplete inferences to things you will never fully understand because they are never fully explained.

I could go on, but I think you will understand: I didn’t like the book. I won’t get rid of it. I’ll keep it so that I have the complete trilogy in hand. But I can’t recommend it. I’m sure Dune trilogy fans will regard this as sacrilege. But that’s my honest opinion.

Some Thoughts on "Children of Dune"

I may be off-line at home, but not at work. That time AWOC (away without computer) last evening gave me time to work on my novel in progress, something I haven’t done in several months. It also gave me time to read twenty more pages in Children of Dune, the third in the Dune Trilogy, written by Frank Herbert. This was next in my reading pile, reshuffled to bring up fiction after reading several non-fiction works.

I had never heard of Dune or the Dune Trilogy or Frank Herbert until a couple of years ago, when my son gave me Dune as a birthday or Christmas gift. The size was daunting, and I didn’t start it for several months. It’s not as if I lack reading material. Plus, I don’t read much science fiction. When I finally did begin reading it, the many strange terms and the even stranger writing were a hindrance. I read Dune too long ago to review for this blog, but you can see my review of Dune Messiah here. In the meantime I had picked up the book Heroes of Dune, an interquel between the first two of the trilogy, written by Herbert’s son, and covering the twelve year gap in the Dune history. I elected to read Children of Dune ahead of Heroes of Dune, to stay in the order they were written, rather than chronological order of the saga.

I may be sorry I did. I’m finding Children of Dune very difficult reading. By now the strange terms are second nature to me. I understand Mu’ah Dib, Benne Gessert, Arrakis, Arrikeem, Shai Halud, mentat, melange, steich, and Kwisach Haderach on sight. I finally came to understand CHOAM a little better in this volume.

But the writing style! My goodness, it goes against everything you hear in writing classes nowadays. Endless pages of thoughts of Leto and Ghanima as they stand with their grandmother waiting for some event. Endless conversations of a feared conspiracy that will end the House of Atreides. Long descriptions of back story, worked in chapter by chapter. It’s downright boring!

Yet, this is a successful sci fi series. Who am I to question Herbert’s writing? He did the same thing in Dune, though I thought a little less in Dune Messiah. Now in Children of Dune he seems to have caricatured what he did in the first book. It’s been a couple of years since I’ve read it, but I don’t remember the internal monologues going on for this long, or being repeated chapter after chapter, with no break for real action.

In an early chapter, where Princess Jessica returns to the planet Dune after a long, self-imposed exile, her protective force fans out into the crowd ahead of her and somehow apprehend the dozen or so conspirators intending to take her life. But this action is under-written. One barely gets the sense that it is action by the words. Herbert did that in Dune as well, the constant downplaying of action in favor of thoughts, descriptions, and conversations.

As I say, the original book and the series were successful, and more books have been added by Herbert’s son than he himself wrote. But I have to say reading this is a struggle. I don’t know if I’m going to finish it or not. And that’s saying something. I always take the approach that if I’ve paid for it I finish it, to get my money’s worth. Even if it was thrift store money as this one was. I’m at page 153 out of 410. At 10 pages per weeknight and 30 per weekend night, I would finish it somewhere around October 18th. Do I really want to dedicate two more weeks of my reading life to this?

Yes, if I don’t finish it, and go on and read a couple more in the series, how will my growth as a writer be stunted? The series is successful. Perhaps it has something to teach me in terms of alternate writing styles, and widen my views of science fiction, of which I’ve read so little. I’ll probably muddle through it. But if something else comes to my attention, either on the reading pile or elsewhere among the books I’ll soon be putting back on shelves in the basement, I may just lay Children of Dune aside for a more opportune time.

Stay tuned.

Book Review: On The Incarnation

As I wrote in this post, C.S. Lewis advised us that the ancient books are not only for professionals. They can be understood by the modern reader, and “first-hand knowledge [from the ancient books] is not only more worth acquiring than second-hand knowledge, but it is usually much easier and more delightful to acquire.”
So Lewis wrote in the Introduction to On The Incarnation: The Treatise De Incarnatione Verbi Dei, by Saint Athanasius [St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, my copy is from 2002, ISBN 0-913836-40-0]. This Christian classic was written around 318 AD, when Athanasius was only 21 to 23 years old. I found it while foraging in a thrift store; it cost me either 25 or 50 cents. I bought it because I had reviewed a seminary paper my son-in-law wrote about De Incarnatione Verbi Dei [DIVD], and decided, years after reading the paper, that maybe I should read the source material. Little did I know that C.S. Lewis was about to tell me I was doing exactly the right thing.

 

DIVD was Athanasius’ second major work, after Against the Heathens [Contra Gentes]. At that time Christianity was in search of orthodoxy. Constantine had recently converted to Christianity and brought the whole empire with him. The persecutions were over, but a greater calamity was about to befall the Church Universal: the influx of government influence, including huge numbers of new “converts” by virtue of the emperor’s conversion, who had no background and no grounding in the faith. The Council of Nicaea would take place in 325 AD, and orthodoxy would be defined. How much of a role would this book play? Was it written…well, why was it written, and what does it tell us?

 

In the prefatory “Life of Athanasius, a scant eight pages long, the editors says DIVD “sets forth the positive content of the Christian faith, as [Athanasius] has himself receive it. …It is not speculative, it is not original; …it is not even controversial…it is a statement of traditional faith…, there is…nothing of Athanasius in it….” This may be true, but I cannot say so after one reading of DIVD and without reading many of it’s antecedents.

 

What I can say is that the book is worth reading, though it is not an easy read, even in this modern translation. During the first three chapters I often found myself glossing over the text, reaching a stopping point and having little or no retention of what I had read. The fault is mine, not the book’s. I believe I could re-read these pages now and grasp the meaning. The gist of Athanasius’ argument: God had a dilemma in that mankind failed to relate to God, his creator, as God intended; God addressed (or solved) the problem by coming to man in the form of a man, Jesus Christ. Jesus was God, separate from the Father yet part of the Father—a mystery.

 

The later chapters were more understandable, especially those on Christ’s death and resurrection. Athanasius’ discussion on how this changes man’s relation to death was excellent. I found many parallels to John Wesley’s sermons on death. Might DIVD have been a direct source for Wesley? Or was the notion of death having been conquered by Christ and as a consequence man’s facing down death so common that the language and concepts couldn’t be anything but similar, even in works fourteen centuries apart? I’m not sure.

 

The later chapters, in which Athanasius refutes objections to the Incarnation, and the entire Christian faith, was less beneficial for doctrine but perhaps was so for history. It gives us a window into what opposing groups of the 4th Century were saying about Christianity. Appended to the book is a long letter Athanasius wrote to Marcellinus, about the Psalms. This too gives us insight into the era, and how Christians viewed and used the Psalms at that time.

 

I will re-read this book. Perhaps not right away, but soon. I’ll like go through one other book on my reading pile than come back to this. I think full understanding is not beyond my grasp. I may have understood it better than I think. It is foundational to the Christian faith by one of its giants. Many others have written on the same subject, including modern works of incredible scholarship, but I’m with C.S. Lewis on this one. Read the original if you find it.

Book Review: The Adams Chronicles: Four Generations of Greatness

I’m not quite sure where I picked up The Adams Chronicles: Four Generations of Greatness by Jack Shepherd [1975, Little, Brown and Company, ISBN 0-316-78497-4]. It cost me $2.00, whereas it sold new, at its second printing in 1976, for $17.50, and used at a previous time for $5.98. I bought it thinking it would be a good history read. It was, and I’m glad I parted with the two.

The book covers four generations of the Adams family, beginning with John, second president. he was the fourth generation of Adamses born in America, but the first we know anything about. For many years history regarded him as almost an accidental founding father—an elitist, a monarchist, a distruster of rule by the people. More recent scholarship has returned him to a place of prominence among the American revolutionaries.

Much of John Adams’ writings fueled the Revolution. An example is his recording of James Otis’ argument, in 1761, against the Writs of Assistance. Since Otis was later deranged and burned most of his personal papers, most of what we know of this opening salvo of rebellion against England comes from John Adam’s notes. I was happy that Adams wrote an opinion about this event that accords with my own: “Independence was then and there born.”

John Quincy Adams is treated fairly by the book. His diplomatic successes, his failed presidency, his later Congressional career, and his efforts against slavery and for the Union are all described. I knew less about him than I had about John, and this book went a long way toward filling my educational gap.

I knew even less about the next two generations, having heard of Charles Francis Adams but knowing nothing about him or his career or his sons. They are treated in the book in less depth than the two presidents, which I suppose should be expected. Charles Francis Adams and his four sons who lived to adulthood—John Quincy II, Charles Francis Jr, Henry, and Brooks—spent less and less time with politics and more with literary and business pursuits.

Charles Francis Adams had a diplomatic and political career, even being considered for nomination as presidential candidate once, but he also spent much time editing his grandparents’ and father’s writings. Charles Francis Jr. began as a journalist but went into railroads, becoming president of the Union Pacific Railroad until he was forced out just before the Panic of 1893. Henry Adams did mostly writing, primarily of history but also a couple of novels. John Quincy II had a political career, trying to rebuild the Democratic party after the Civil War. Brooks, the youngest, had the least paragraphs in the book. He led a quiet life of writing and described himself as “a crank, very few people can endure to have be near them…as soon as I join a group of people they all melt away and disappear.”

The author made a valid attempt to show the family’s faults alongside their good qualities; yet I sense he was not neutral (duh; the subtitle tells me that). He generally likes the Adamses and sees them as a positive force in American history. The writing is good and captivating. It took me only fourteen sessions to get through the 452 pages, including the historo-babble filled Introduction by Daniel J. Boorstin. The book is well illustrated, and has an adequate index.

By 21st century standards, the book can be faulted for its lack of documentation. It has no footnotes. Thus it would be classified as a popular rather than a scholarly history. The bibliography implies the author relied primarily on original family writings. Some notes as to sources would have been nice.

While this is a good book, a worthwhile read, it is not a keeper. If I do any more study on the Adamses I would want to do it from the primary sources. As soon as I note a few things from the bibliography, off to the garage sale pile it goes.

Book Review: The Prodigal God

The parable of the prodigal son is a favorite with Christians. What’s not to like? A son turns from his sinful life and his father accepts him back with unconditional love. It is taught in Bible studies and preached from the pulpit. This popularity might lead you to think that almost everything that needs to be said about it has been said.

Timothy Keller would disagree. Pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Manhattan, New York City, he has been preaching/teaching this parable for a couple of decades. In 2008 he published The Prodigal God (Dutton; ISBN 978-0-525-95079-0). The basis of the title is that, while the younger son led a wastefully extravagant life, God is extravagant to the extreme in his love and outreach to mankind. “Prodigal” means recklessly extravagant, profuse in giving. We would normally attach this to the younger brother (not the giving part). Subconsciously we would apply this to God as well, but might not think of this often. Keller artfully shows this extravagance by explaining the what the father in the parable endured in his culture.

  • The affront of his younger son, demanding his inheritance. Normal practice would be to drive the young man out with sticks, but of course the father doesn’t.
  • The need to sell lands, fields, herds to make the division demanded by the younger son’s unreasonable request.
  • Running to welcome his son back, to have at most an extra minute with him. A dignified Middle Eastern landowner would never have tossed his dignity aside by hitching up his robe to run in public. Such is this father’s love.
  • His ignoring the prior affront by unconditionally welcoming back his younger son and restoring him to the family. Such a practice would have opened him to more ridicule from his fellow tribesmen.
  • The affront of his older son refusing to come in to the celebration, and the father’s going out to reason with his son.

Keller takes time to explain the younger brother/older brother dynamics, and how the older brother really has the same sin issue as his younger brother, but manifested in a different way: both want the father’s things, but not the father. One chose the sin of loveless disobedience; the other loveless obedience.

This small book, just 139 easy to read, small size pages, is a good read by itself. It can also be used as a small group study. A study book is available, as is a high quality video of Keller teaching this in six sessions. If you have an opportunity, do the study with a group. If not, at least read the book. You should learn much and be encouraged in your Christian walk.

Book Review: A Question of Character – A Life of John F. Kennedy

It used to be that I picked up most books about the JFK assassination and read and kept them. Then I started picking up bios of JFK, always used. In June I bought at a thrift store A Question of Character: A Life of John F. Kennedy by Thomas C. Reeves (1991, Prima Publishing, ISBN 1-55958-196-4). I began reading it right away, finishing its 491 pages (including notes) in about a week.

The opening paragraph of the Preface is instructive:

It seems that I have always liked John F. Kennedy. I first saw him on television in 1956 when I was an undergraduate. The young senator was courageously struggling at his party’s national convention to win the vice presidential nomination, and I was taken with his good looks, energy, inspiring language, and grace in defeat. A look at Kennedy’s credentials as a war hero, intellectual, and liberal convinced me that he had a splendid future.

That tells the framework of where the author is coming from, but you sense a “but” coming. The Preface goes on to describe how the early biographies and memoirs of JFK were totally positive, what he later terms the Camelot School of Kennedy historians. Such people as Schlesinger, Sorensen, O’Donnell and Powers rushed out books that showed JFK to be a president who would have been envied by both Washington and Lincoln had they been alive.

But the “but” comes. By 1975, twelves years after Dealy Plaza, the literature began to take on some negatives. By 1977 it was exploded by Judith Cambell Exner’s book revealing her affair with him. In the decade after that, the Camelot School did their best to maintain the illusion of excellence of JFK’s life and presidency, but it was only a matter of time until more truthful, more balanced books and articles began to come forth.

Some time ago I read Seymour Hersh’s The Dark Side of Camelot, published in 1997 but researched beginning around 1992. I was shocked at some of what I read in that. Well, not really shocked, as I had already come to know that JFK was not the man many thought he was. But before that book I assumed his failings were in personal character, not in his job duties.

Hersh exploded that myth. Except it had already been exploded by Reeves, five years earlier. Hersh spent a lot of time on Kennedy’s womanizing. Reeves does also, but he goes more into the failings in doing the job Kennedy was elected to do, as well as in credentials. Here are some of the items that are well explained.

  • PT 109 and war record. I need to read some more on this, but Reeves says that in all of WW2 one, and only one, PT boat was ever rammed by a Japanese ship, and that was PT109, under JFK’s watch. The reason: these boats were so fast that they could easily out maneuver a much larger vessel. That this PT boat was rammed was a blight on JFK’s war record. He showed some heroics in rescuing his men, but it was an apparent lapse on his part that cause the boat to be sunk in the first place.
  • Profiles In Courage. I had heard something about this book being significantly edited, by Ted Sorensen, and that JFK should not have been given full credit for it, certainly not a Pulitzer. But Reeves shows convincingly that Kennedy had almost nothing to do with the writing. Sorensen did it all, including the research. And the Pulitzer was won because papa Joe Kennedy bought it. As I say, Reeves is quite convincing.
  • Kennedy’s health. Hersh showed how JFK’s health was a basket case, which seemed to be at its best right when he became president. Reeves fills in some gaps Hersh left out (or, since Reeves came before Hersh, that Hersh decided didn’t need to be covered). Massive doses of medicinal drugs and “feel-good cocktails” kept JFK going. Reeves says even Jackie took amphetamines with JFK.
  • Work ethic. Reeves explodes the myth (and Hersh spread the ashes) of JFK supposedly being a hard worker as president, as he had been a slackard legislator. At first he barely worked half a day, though later the demands of office grew on him and he was forced to put in longer hours. One disturbing event Reeves documents is the separation of Kennedy from the nuclear football, when JFK furtively traversed tunnels under New York City to get to a two-hour stand. And Reeves speculates that, given JFK’s normal MO, this could have happened many times.
  • Political expediency. Reeves says JFK had no core of beliefs upon which to base policies. Everything he did (except maybe the Cuban Missile Crisis) was done based on “what will get me re-elected?” This is why he became ineffective in dealing with Congress; of course, many of them did not respect Kennedy because of his poor record as representative then senator. But this book is quite revealing in how the political calculation pretty much trumped any consideration of “what is best for America?”

I’m out of time for tonight, but will come back to this in another post in a day or two. Let me say the book is well worth the read if you can find it, even at full price instead of 50 cents as mine cost. It’s going into my library.

"How Now Shall We Live?" and Christian Worldview

Some time ago I reviewed Chuck Colson’s book How Now Shall We Live? This 1999 non-fiction writing is for the purpose of convincing Christians to have a “Christian” worldview. Colson and co-author Nancy Pearcey define worldview as “the sum total of our beliefs about the world, the ‘big picture’ that directs our daily decisions and actions.” For a Christian worldview, that would mean that the person and message of Jesus Christ should order and direct those decisions and actions.

I intended to write a second installment of the book, which is large. It’s been so long ago that I read it and wrote the first part of the review, all those good tidbits floating around in my gray cells have no sunk into the sludge at the bottom. So now I’ll have to improvise.

I remember that the best section of the book–that is the part that held my interest best–was the discussions of laws, law-making, court decisions, etc. We would expect Colson, an ex-lawyer and government official, to do well with that section. It is comprehensive and clear, well documented and foot-noted. The basic premise of the section is that Christians should be involved in the law-making/legal process, and that their Christian worldview should govern not only their actions but, hopeful, also the land in which the Christian lives. This is a gross over-simplification, but I think I have it correct.

Yet, this section of the book troubles me, causing me to pause and think. My thoughts are concerning if our Christian worldview should translate into laws governing Christian and non-Christian alike. In assessing this, I think of those with Moslem worldviews. If they do what Colson suggests and seek to influence the law and public policy, we will all soon be listening to the call to prayer broadcast throughout the neighborhood before dawn and four other times a day. We’ll be under sharia law, with hands and heads severed for the specified crimes. Businesses would have to close from sundown Thursday to sundown Friday. And we’ll have our major holidays around the hajj, not Christmas.

Is the cause of Christ furthered when Christians attempt to make non-Christians behave like Christians through the force of the law? Or is it furthered when the difference between Christian and non-Christian is greater? When Christians do what they do because of Christ, not because of the law? How great is the example of Chick-fil-A, which closes all their stores on the Lord’s day? Or the example of Sarah Palin, who had the Down Syndrome baby rather than have an abortion? Or the Christian who is audited by the IRS and is found to have correctly reported income for taxes? Much greater, methinks, than if we try to force non-Christians to behave according to Christian ethics built into laws.

I’m still thinking this over. Much of our code of laws is based on the principles of Judaism and Christianity. I wouldn’t want to do away with that. But it just seems that Christians may hurt the cause of Christ more by being over-zealous on shaping the law than by behaving as He wants us to regardless of the law.

Still thinking.