Not as much reading this month due to some busy weekends and more responsibilities at church, but I still managed to get through a couple of big books, a couple of smaller ones, and some interesting articles. Take a look!
4 Articles I Like This Month
Roger Goodell Has a Jerry Jones Problem and Nobody Knows How It Will End by Don Van Natta, Jr. and Seth Wickersham, ESPN the Magazine. 23 minutes.
An investigative piece about the conflict (still brewing) between two of my least favorite people in professional sports. For any NFL fan wondering what drove one of the most powerful owners in pro sports to take on the commish, here are your answers.
I Want to Persuade You to Care About Other People by Danielle Tcholakian, Longreads. 23 minutes.
A thoughtful response to a Huffington Post thinkpiece, "I Don't Know How To Explain To You That You Should Care About Other People," that went viral after the 2016 presidential election. In a nation frighteningly divided along partisan lines, is there room for listening, honest debate, and persuasion? The author of this article makes her case for trying, even when so many refuse to. Written from the perspective of a liberal, but absolutely applicable for readers on either side of the aisle.
Pearls Before Breakfast: Can One of the Nation's Greatest Musicians Cut Through the Fog of a D.C. Rush Hour? Let's Find Out. by Gene Weingarten, The Washington Post Magazine. 30 minutes.
A fascinating article I ran across from 2007 in which the Post conducted an experiment: they took a world-class violinist playing world-class music on a world-class violin, put him in a crowded Metro station, and waited to see who would stop to pay attention. The results, analyzed from every angle imaginable, may surprise you, and will definitely make you ask this question: in your busy life, are you willing to let beauty stop you in your tracks?
Hall of Fame articles by Jay Jaffe, Si.com. Average 15 minutes
Ok, I cheated on this one; this is a series of articles, not just one. Every year, baseball writers across the country spill plenty of ink (whether real or digital) over the National Baseball Hall of Fame ballot, debating which candidates deserve induction. For my money, no one does it better than Sports Illustrated's Jay Jaffe, inventor of the JAWS system which statistically compares candidates to current Hall of Famers in an effort to determine whether a given candidate would raise or lower the Hall's standard. Jaffe writes a detailed article about every single player on the ballot, from the shoo-ins (Chipper Jones) to the guys who will fall off the ballot without receiving a vote (Kevin Millwood). Can't recommend his analysis enough for those, like me, who get irrationally worked up about the Hall of Fame.
ANYWAY ANYTIME ANYWHERE: THIRTY YEARS OF TEXAS BAPTIST MEN MINISTRY by Ken Camp and Orville Scott
When a tornado devastated Moore, Oklahoma in 2013, NBC was one of the numerous media organizations that sent its journalists to chronicle the destruction. During a broadcast of NBC Nightly News, reporter Harry Smith made a remarkable observation to anchor Brian Williams: "As you and I have seen in so many different places in this country, if you’re waiting for the government, you’re going to be in for an awful long wait. The Baptist men, they’re going to get it done tomorrow."
Anyway Anytime Anywhere celebrates and describes the first 30 years of ministry by those Baptist men, specifically the Texas Baptist Men, a nonprofit organization most famous for its disaster relief ministries. Whether prompted by earthquakes in Mexico, hurricanes in Florida, or famine in North Korea--yes, North Korea--Texas Baptist Men has gone all over the globe since 1968 to purify water, cook meals, clear rubble, build homes and churches, and share the gospel. And both the world and the kingdom of God are richer for their efforts.
Anyway Anytime Anywhere shows how much the organization grew in its first 30 years and how many different areas of ministry Texas Baptist Men was and is involved in. While most notable for its disaster relief efforts, I learned from the book that TBM is also involved in water ministry, church renewal, prison ministry, and many other areas. Where other nonprofit organizations and denominational entities have bogged down in politics (institutional or national), financial quagmires, and all sorts of other troubles, TBM has been a shining light in the Baptist world, beloved by virtually everyone for their commitment to being the hands and feet of Christ.
As for the book itself, well, you should definitely buy a copy and read it. Why? 1) Proceeds go to support the ministries of TBM. 2) It's interesting to track the progression of TBM from a small, well-meaning group of retirees to the well-oiled task force it is now. 3) The author's a pretty great guy. Like, really, really great.
I'm making an effort to learn more about Texas Baptists this year, and reading Anyway Anytime Anywhere was an excellent part of that education. I'd recommend it to fellow pastors and laypeople who respect and are interested in TBM.
When a tornado devastated Moore, Oklahoma in 2013, NBC was one of the numerous media organizations that sent its journalists to chronicle the destruction. During a broadcast of NBC Nightly News, reporter Harry Smith made a remarkable observation to anchor Brian Williams: "As you and I have seen in so many different places in this country, if you’re waiting for the government, you’re going to be in for an awful long wait. The Baptist men, they’re going to get it done tomorrow."
Anyway Anytime Anywhere celebrates and describes the first 30 years of ministry by those Baptist men, specifically the Texas Baptist Men, a nonprofit organization most famous for its disaster relief ministries. Whether prompted by earthquakes in Mexico, hurricanes in Florida, or famine in North Korea--yes, North Korea--Texas Baptist Men has gone all over the globe since 1968 to purify water, cook meals, clear rubble, build homes and churches, and share the gospel. And both the world and the kingdom of God are richer for their efforts.
Anyway Anytime Anywhere shows how much the organization grew in its first 30 years and how many different areas of ministry Texas Baptist Men was and is involved in. While most notable for its disaster relief efforts, I learned from the book that TBM is also involved in water ministry, church renewal, prison ministry, and many other areas. Where other nonprofit organizations and denominational entities have bogged down in politics (institutional or national), financial quagmires, and all sorts of other troubles, TBM has been a shining light in the Baptist world, beloved by virtually everyone for their commitment to being the hands and feet of Christ.
As for the book itself, well, you should definitely buy a copy and read it. Why? 1) Proceeds go to support the ministries of TBM. 2) It's interesting to track the progression of TBM from a small, well-meaning group of retirees to the well-oiled task force it is now. 3) The author's a pretty great guy. Like, really, really great.
I'm making an effort to learn more about Texas Baptists this year, and reading Anyway Anytime Anywhere was an excellent part of that education. I'd recommend it to fellow pastors and laypeople who respect and are interested in TBM.
RADICAL: TAKING BACK YOUR FAITH FROM THE AMERICAN DREAM by David Platt
One of the more influential evangelical books of the last decade, Radical makes the case that the American Dream has watered down, distorted, and choked out the gospel in the hearts of many Christians, and that the American church must change if it is going to make an impact on the world. While flawed, it's a book worth checking out for any Bible Belt Christian.
First, the good. David Platt, a megachurch pastor and now the president of the Southern Baptist Convention's International Mission Board, writes with prophetic zeal about America's culture of consumerism and how it is slowly killing the church. Echoing the arguments of people like Shane Claiborne and Brennan Manning, Platt argues that a Christian who drives a fancy car, attends a fancy megachurch like his, and has a healthy retirement fund, yet devotes no time, attention, or money to the poor and the lost is not being obedient to the call of the gospel. Evangelical culture makes faith all about you even though Jesus brought a gospel all about others, and Platt is not afraid to call out this hypocrisy. In reading his critique of American culture, especially American evangelical culture, I found myself nodding along with virtually everything he said.
His solution, however, needs work. Essentially, he wants to see every Christian become an international missionary. I'm oversimplifying, but not by a lot. Platt wants to see every Christian foster children, sell their possessions, go overseas annually, etc.—and while these are admirable things to which every Christian should give serious consideration, he doesn't have much grace for the legitimate reasons some people cannot do these things. His assumption, essentially, is that every Christian reading his book is the Rich Young Ruler— and while many probably are (more than would admit it), his solutions only apply to this group.
Overall, Radical paints with a broad brush, something that works when he's hammering the problem but becomes problematic when he's crafting a solution. This book is a good rallying cry to those in a spiritual stupor, but it's not a universal prescription to snap them out of that haze. I recommend it, but as always when reading or hearing someone's interpretation of the Bible, pray for the Holy Spirit to help you discern what's truth and what's opinion.
One of the more influential evangelical books of the last decade, Radical makes the case that the American Dream has watered down, distorted, and choked out the gospel in the hearts of many Christians, and that the American church must change if it is going to make an impact on the world. While flawed, it's a book worth checking out for any Bible Belt Christian.
First, the good. David Platt, a megachurch pastor and now the president of the Southern Baptist Convention's International Mission Board, writes with prophetic zeal about America's culture of consumerism and how it is slowly killing the church. Echoing the arguments of people like Shane Claiborne and Brennan Manning, Platt argues that a Christian who drives a fancy car, attends a fancy megachurch like his, and has a healthy retirement fund, yet devotes no time, attention, or money to the poor and the lost is not being obedient to the call of the gospel. Evangelical culture makes faith all about you even though Jesus brought a gospel all about others, and Platt is not afraid to call out this hypocrisy. In reading his critique of American culture, especially American evangelical culture, I found myself nodding along with virtually everything he said.
His solution, however, needs work. Essentially, he wants to see every Christian become an international missionary. I'm oversimplifying, but not by a lot. Platt wants to see every Christian foster children, sell their possessions, go overseas annually, etc.—and while these are admirable things to which every Christian should give serious consideration, he doesn't have much grace for the legitimate reasons some people cannot do these things. His assumption, essentially, is that every Christian reading his book is the Rich Young Ruler— and while many probably are (more than would admit it), his solutions only apply to this group.
Overall, Radical paints with a broad brush, something that works when he's hammering the problem but becomes problematic when he's crafting a solution. This book is a good rallying cry to those in a spiritual stupor, but it's not a universal prescription to snap them out of that haze. I recommend it, but as always when reading or hearing someone's interpretation of the Bible, pray for the Holy Spirit to help you discern what's truth and what's opinion.
THE BULLY PULPIT: THEODORE ROOSEVELT, WILLIAM HOWARD TAFT, AND THE GOLDEN AGE OF JOURNALISM by Doris Kearns Goodwin
The Progressive Era that began the 20th century was an important period in American history, a time in which the federal government adapted itself to the needs of a suddenly industrial nation by busting trusts which had become monopolies, regulating industries in the name of public safety, and codifying workers' rights into law. This era had many catalysts, but Doris Kearns Goodwin pinpoints three in particular: Theodore Roosevelt, William Howard Taft, and the "muckraking" journalists at McClure's magazine. The result is an interesting, if occasionally disconnected, look at the rise and fall of a movement.
Goodwin's treatment of the relationship between Roosevelt and Taft is its most fascinating narrative. Unbeknownst to me, the two shared a close friendship before Roosevelt was ever thrust into the White House, one that ultimately culminated in Taft becoming his Secretary of War and then handpicked successor to the presidency. The relationship ultimately soured during Taft's presidency, however, as Roosevelt grew disappointed by what he regarded as Taft's failure to carry on the Progressive legacy. In the end, Roosevelt ran against his former friend in the 1912 election, first in the Republican primary and then the general election, thereby essentially handing the presidency to Democrat Woodrow Wilson. Roosevelt and Taft's relationship is almost Shakespearean in its highs and lows, and Goodwin writes about it compellingly.
Similarly, her account of the "muckraking" journalists of the era is an interesting and underrated story. Giving attention almost exclusively to the cadre of journalists at McClure's magazine, she explains their importance and tells their personal stories in a way that makes you, the reader, feel like you knew them personally. Especially interesting is Sam McClure, the magazine publisher with a genius eye for talent and the eccentricities to match. By the time you finish the book, you have no doubt of their importance to the Progressive Era.
The book's only failure is in connecting all the dots. Is it a book about the history of the Progressive Era? About Roosevelt and Taft's relationship? About groundbreaking writers in a "golden age of journalism?" Yes to all three, and as you might imagine, connecting all those dots is a herculean task. Sometimes Goodwin succeeds, but not quite often enough. Nevertheless, if you regard it as three different stories with loose ties to one another (instead of demanding it be one narrative), those stories are well told. This isn't her best book, but you can't really go wrong with the Notorious D.K.G.
ESSENTIAL MARVEL HORROR VOL. 1 by Various
Sometimes I wonder who at Marvel was responsible for determining what stories were "essential" when they starting putting these compilations out. The earliest adventures of Spider-Man? Yeah. The X-Men stories of the late-1970s and early 1980s? Of course. Even some of the weaker Silver Age stories, like the early adventures of Ant-Man, Iron Man, and the Human Torch, deserved to be preserved simply because of the importance of those characters and the need to preserve some of their earliest appearances. But somebody really missed the boat when they decided we needed Essential Marvel Horror Vol. 1.
This large, black-and-white volume contains all of the Bronze Age stories of two sibling characters, Daimon Hellstrom and Satana, both children of Satan himself. In the case of Daimon, the Son of Satan, his patronage makes him a Dr. Jekyll-like figure, an exorcist struggling with the demonic side of himself, which fills him with both great power and great rage. Satana, on the other hand, is a succubus, a mostly evil devil-human hybrid who consumes people's souls like a vampire does blood.
If my descriptions make those characters sound terrifying or compelling, don't worry—they're neither. Daimon's adventures follow the Dr. Strange model; he's basically a superhero whose powers come from the supernatural realm instead of the scientific. Unlike Dr. Strange, however, he is not a very interesting character—he's cold, his supporting cast is boring, and other than his famous dad, his villains aren't particularly interesting. Satana yields better results (partly because her stories came in a Marvel adults-only horror magazine instead of a traditional comic book), but was equally doomed by weak characterization, bad writing, and boring villains.
In the end, both of these characters are pretty clear efforts by Marvel to capitalize on the 1970s occult fad, and as usual when companies start with an eye on the money instead of the idea, the characters never go anywhere particularly interesting. My dad never would have allowed me to buy this book as a child, and while I would have whined about it then, now I would thank him for it—not because the stories are offensive (they couldn't be more banal), but because they're bad. Far from Essential reading.
The Progressive Era that began the 20th century was an important period in American history, a time in which the federal government adapted itself to the needs of a suddenly industrial nation by busting trusts which had become monopolies, regulating industries in the name of public safety, and codifying workers' rights into law. This era had many catalysts, but Doris Kearns Goodwin pinpoints three in particular: Theodore Roosevelt, William Howard Taft, and the "muckraking" journalists at McClure's magazine. The result is an interesting, if occasionally disconnected, look at the rise and fall of a movement.
Goodwin's treatment of the relationship between Roosevelt and Taft is its most fascinating narrative. Unbeknownst to me, the two shared a close friendship before Roosevelt was ever thrust into the White House, one that ultimately culminated in Taft becoming his Secretary of War and then handpicked successor to the presidency. The relationship ultimately soured during Taft's presidency, however, as Roosevelt grew disappointed by what he regarded as Taft's failure to carry on the Progressive legacy. In the end, Roosevelt ran against his former friend in the 1912 election, first in the Republican primary and then the general election, thereby essentially handing the presidency to Democrat Woodrow Wilson. Roosevelt and Taft's relationship is almost Shakespearean in its highs and lows, and Goodwin writes about it compellingly.
Similarly, her account of the "muckraking" journalists of the era is an interesting and underrated story. Giving attention almost exclusively to the cadre of journalists at McClure's magazine, she explains their importance and tells their personal stories in a way that makes you, the reader, feel like you knew them personally. Especially interesting is Sam McClure, the magazine publisher with a genius eye for talent and the eccentricities to match. By the time you finish the book, you have no doubt of their importance to the Progressive Era.
The book's only failure is in connecting all the dots. Is it a book about the history of the Progressive Era? About Roosevelt and Taft's relationship? About groundbreaking writers in a "golden age of journalism?" Yes to all three, and as you might imagine, connecting all those dots is a herculean task. Sometimes Goodwin succeeds, but not quite often enough. Nevertheless, if you regard it as three different stories with loose ties to one another (instead of demanding it be one narrative), those stories are well told. This isn't her best book, but you can't really go wrong with the Notorious D.K.G.
ESSENTIAL MARVEL HORROR VOL. 1 by Various
Sometimes I wonder who at Marvel was responsible for determining what stories were "essential" when they starting putting these compilations out. The earliest adventures of Spider-Man? Yeah. The X-Men stories of the late-1970s and early 1980s? Of course. Even some of the weaker Silver Age stories, like the early adventures of Ant-Man, Iron Man, and the Human Torch, deserved to be preserved simply because of the importance of those characters and the need to preserve some of their earliest appearances. But somebody really missed the boat when they decided we needed Essential Marvel Horror Vol. 1.
This large, black-and-white volume contains all of the Bronze Age stories of two sibling characters, Daimon Hellstrom and Satana, both children of Satan himself. In the case of Daimon, the Son of Satan, his patronage makes him a Dr. Jekyll-like figure, an exorcist struggling with the demonic side of himself, which fills him with both great power and great rage. Satana, on the other hand, is a succubus, a mostly evil devil-human hybrid who consumes people's souls like a vampire does blood.
If my descriptions make those characters sound terrifying or compelling, don't worry—they're neither. Daimon's adventures follow the Dr. Strange model; he's basically a superhero whose powers come from the supernatural realm instead of the scientific. Unlike Dr. Strange, however, he is not a very interesting character—he's cold, his supporting cast is boring, and other than his famous dad, his villains aren't particularly interesting. Satana yields better results (partly because her stories came in a Marvel adults-only horror magazine instead of a traditional comic book), but was equally doomed by weak characterization, bad writing, and boring villains.
In the end, both of these characters are pretty clear efforts by Marvel to capitalize on the 1970s occult fad, and as usual when companies start with an eye on the money instead of the idea, the characters never go anywhere particularly interesting. My dad never would have allowed me to buy this book as a child, and while I would have whined about it then, now I would thank him for it—not because the stories are offensive (they couldn't be more banal), but because they're bad. Far from Essential reading.
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