3 Biblical Responses to Violence

“What I am supposed to do?”

That’s the question that’s been on my mind after one of the most violent weeks in our nation’s recent memory. For most of the week, the big story was bombs being sent through the mail to high-profile critics of President Trump. The alleged bomber was apprehended without having racked up a body count, though the chief goal of his terrorism—provoking fear—had been accomplished. Unfortunately, Saturday’s news was bloodier: 11 people killed in their synagogue by an anti-Semitic gunman.

The national argument quickly became about who to blame for the week’s sudden rash of domestic terrorism: the president, the media, the Internet, guns, and Congress were all proposed to be at fault, depending on whom you listened to. If Republicans would get serious about gun control, if President Trump would act more presidential, if Democrats would stop exploiting tragedies, if the mainstream media would quit glorifying madmen…simply put, if the Other Side would get their act together, then everything would be fine, said the people with agendas and microphones.

But I’m not interested in playing the blame game this time around, in shouting at ideological opponents until we’re all as exhausted as we are unmoved. My concern is what I’m supposed to do now. In a nation where hate and violence are on the rise, how can I—a Christian, a husband, a father, and an American (in that order)—respond when hatred rears its ugly head?

I found three biblical options from the gospel accounts of the Passion.

The first comes from Simon Peter, the brash leader of Jesus’s twelve disciples. When a detachment of soldiers came to arrest Jesus and drag him before the chief priests for a false trial and subsequent crucifixion, Peter drew his sword and prepared for battle. In the face of violence, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight; he was going to defend Jesus to his dying breath. Striking at the first person he could get his hands on, he cut off the ear of the high priest’s servant Malchus, leaving the man writhing on the ground clutching his face in agony. Peter had made himself clear—no one was going to hurt Jesus while he was around.

John Wayne would approve. Jesus did not. Turning to his disciple, he said, “Put your sword back into its place; for all who live by the sword will die by the sword.” And reaching his hand toward Malchus, Jesus healed the man who had come to arrest him.

That same night brought the second option for responding to violence, this time in the person of Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor of Judea. Having found Jesus guilty of blasphemy, the chief priests dragged him before Pilate, demanding swift punishment. Faced with a mob of angry, zealous accusers, Pilate initially tried to talk them down, then attempted to bargain with them for the life of the innocent Jesus. But seeing that their minds were made up, that nothing would satisfy them but bloodshed, he washed his hands before them and declared, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” Having abandoned his responsibility, Pilate left Jesus to his fate.

We’ll come back to the third option, but let’s deal with the first two. In Pilate we see the easiest choice when confronted with violence: do nothing. Blame someone else, pretend you have no authority to effect change, refuse to take any sort of stand. Value your position, agenda, and power more than the lives of innocents. And then watch with shrugged shoulders as hatred wins.

In Peter we see a more activist option: meet force with force. Disregard Jesus so that you can protect him, baptize violence as a tool against the enemy, fight back by any means necessary. An eye for an eye, a life for a life. And then watch with confusion when Jesus rebukes you.

I see a lot of Christians responding to our national epidemic of violence—gun violence, domestic violence, sexual violence, and now political violence, just to name a few—with Pilate’s shrugged shoulders. “There are always going to be crazy people,” they say. “It’s a fallen world,” they say. Alluding vaguely to a need for thoughts and prayers, they adopt a position of helplessness, a stubborn unwillingness to meet violence with anything more difficult than sadness.

We can do better than the Pilate Option.

I see other believers responding to the rise in hatred and violence with Peter’s clenched fist. “What we need are more guns,” they say. “This is why the death penalty is so important,” they say. “All I know is, my family is safe,” they say, patting the not-so-concealed handgun at their waist.

The problem with the Peter Option, despite how secure it may make us feel, is Jesus, who rebukes our attempts to protect innocence through violence. We can do better, Jesus says, than the Peter Option.

So what’s left? Well, on a weekend marked by cowardice, hatred, violence, and death, there were a few—some whom we know by name, others lost to history—who continued following Jesus to the bitter end, and then to a glorious new beginning. While the twelve had fled the garden when Jesus was arrested, a group of women led by Mary Magdalene boldly came to the cross to be with their Lord in his final moments. While the twelve hid in an upper room after Jesus’s death, Mary and a friend went with Joseph of Arimathea to bury their Lord. And so it was that, on that glorious Sunday morning, women—Mary among them—were the first to discover his empty tomb.

When violence struck, Mary and her friends refused to leave Jesus’s side. When hatred was on parade, the quiet witness of Mary and her friends was love. And when death seemed victorious, Mary and her friends refused even then to abandon the Lord of life. The witness of those women gives us our third option when confronting violence, the Mary Option: standing as sentinels of love even when the world around you is consumed by hatred.

The Mary Option doesn’t maintain your power like the Pilate Option, because it comes from a place of weakness instead of strength. The Mary Option doesn’t protect you like the Peter Option, because it is more concerned with loving the innocent than with hurting the guilty. The Mary Option frankly isn’t about you at all.

The Mary Option is about choosing Jesus’s way instead of the world’s, about staying true to Jesus even when your flesh demands satisfaction, about showing love when it makes more sense to show hate. Choosing the Mary Option means quietly but firmly shining the light of Christ in a dark world.  The Mary Option requires discipline and courage, conviction and faith, because it means sticking with Jesus even when victory isn't in sight.

What might it look like to choose the Mary Option after our week of violence? Sending a handwritten note of encouragement to your local synagogue. Praying sincerely for the congressman you didn’t vote for. Voting your conscience—and refusing to shame those who voted differently from you. Buying coffee for a friend whose politics you can’t stand. Maybe most of all, remembering that every person—even a person whose beliefs, background, race, and religion are different than yours—is your neighbor. Simply put, choosing the Mary Option means going above and beyond to ensure that, in a world dominated by hate, love has its say.

Will the Mary Option end our national surge in hatred and violence? Well...no, probably not. National problems require national solutions. But this much I can guarantee you—no one ever made the world a worse place by loving like Jesus. And if more of us will choose the Mary Option in a world of Peters and Pilates, who knows? Maybe we’ll see a resurrection yet.

The Imitation Game (Friday Devotional)

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”

- John 13:34

When I was a child, my dream was to become a major league baseball player. I learned everything I could about the sport, I rarely missed a game on TV (or at least the innings before bedtime), and I played baseball with my brothers as often as their whims and the Texas heat would permit. And when they wanted to do something else, I would head to the backyard by myself, Nerf bat in hand, and do my best imitation of Juan Gonzalez.

Juan Gone, you should know, was the best hitter the Rangers had in that summer of 1998; indeed, he was voted the American League Most Valuable Player at season's end. That summer he launched 45 home runs, drove in a league-leading 157 runs, and led his team to its second postseason appearance in franchise history. When the All-Star Game rolled around, he wasn't just a starter, but the cleanup hitter for a powerful American League lineup. Juan Gonzalez was the man.

So when I'd head out to the backyard with my Nerf bat, ready to imagine myself batting in the 9th inning of Game 7 of the World Series, there was no question who I was trying to look like. I waggled the bat high above my head like Juan, I employed a high leg kick like Juan, I even gave the imaginary pitcher a surly glare like Juan. Funny thing is, he wasn't even my favorite player on the Rangers. But I wanted to be the best, and being the best meant imitating Juan Gonzalez.

Imitation, it's been said, is the sincerest form of flattery—but it's more than that. Imitation is one of the ways we learn, grow, and change. When you see someone who has mastered a skill which you want to get better at, it's only natural that you try to do what they're doing.

In Christ, we have been given the very personification of God's love—and his command is that we imitate that love. "Just as I have loved you," he said, "you also should love one another."

As fallen, fragile, fallible people, we have a tendency to make love, compassion, and kindness more complicated than they need to be. We look to qualify God's words on who to love and how to love, asking every 'what if' in the book, coming up with scenario after scenario in which we're allowed to be judgmental instead of merciful, hurtful instead of helpful. Like the man whose questioning prompted the parable of the Good Samaritan, too often our questions about loving well are really rooted in self-justification.

However, the Bible's teaching on love is not ultimately grounded in situational ethics, but in a person. Our guide for knowing who, how, and why to love isn't a commandment or a catechism, but a Christ. With his life, death and resurrection, Jesus gave us a master class in God's love. So if you want to love well, it means imitating the best in the business.

When the Lights Go Out (Friday Devotional)

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them anymore, but only Jesus.

- Mark 9:2-8

When Madison Square Garden is rocking, it feels like the center of the universe. Tens of thousands of spectators cheer and boo in full-throated unison. Lights swirl around the building and every sound seems thunderous. What’s more, an undefinable aura permeates the place, a much-discussed feeling that something historic could happen at any moment. Everyone from the Knicks who have called it home to the superstar visitors like Michael Jordan and LeBron James who have soared to new heights in its confines to rock stars, wrestlers, presidents, and popes—everyone seems to agree that there’s something special about Madison Square Garden when the arena is full and the show is on.

But a few hours after the game is won or the concert concluded, after thousands of fans have made their way home by taxi or subway, a handful of people remain in the arena to clean up the last few pieces of trash, lock the doors, and otherwise shut the building down for the night. And when the last light is turned off and those custodial workers walk out onto the streets of Manhattan, the great Madison Square Garden is suddenly laid bare. No longer is it the capitol of entertainment, no longer is it a stage for greatness, no longer is it the center of the universe. When the lights go out, it’s just a building.

As Mark ends his account of the Transfiguration, that moment when, to quote Eugene Peterson, Jesus’s appearance “changed from the inside out” and he was first joined by Elijah and Moses and then blessed by a voice from heaven, he ends the story with a note of anticlimax: “suddenly when [Peter, James, and John] looked around, they saw no one with them anymore, but only Jesus.” Having just borne witness to a dazzling glimpse of heaven on earth, the disciples are left with nothing but their master. Like a pedestrian looking at an empty Madison Square Garden after a big event, they see their Lord with something almost approaching disappointment. When the lights go out, he’s just Jesus.

I hope you recognize the irony there—that while Jesus’s radiance had disappeared, he remained the Word made flesh, the Son of God, the blessed Messiah, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. “Just Jesus” was more than enough.

Yet sometimes we find ourselves in the disciples’ shoes, so captivated by brilliant signs that we are disappointed by the enduring presence of God in our lives. We rejoice at miracles, but then are underwhelmed by acts of service; we marvel at the eloquence of the preacher while taking the nursery worker for granted; our hearts are warmed by elaborate worship services but go cold when we pray in silence.

It’s human nature to be impressed by the big, bold, bright, and beautiful, but we must remember that God works in the alleyways as powerfully as he does on the mountaintop. So when you’re looking for God, don’t wait for Him to dazzle you. Look around; listen closely. Sometimes God doesn’t need to put on a show to do His best work.

What's At Stake

“Michelle [Obama] always says, 'When they go low, we go high.' No. No. When they go low, we kick them."

- Former U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder, October 7, 2018

Lesley Stahl: “Do you think you treated [Christine Blasey-Ford] with respect?”

President Donald Trump: “I think so, yeah, I did.”

Stahl: “But you seem to be saying that she lied.”

Trump: “I’m not going to get into it, because we won. It doesn’t matter. We won.”

- 60 Minutes interview of President Donald Trump, October 14, 2018

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National politics have been toxic for most of my lifetime. The first presidential election after my birth ended with the newly elected Commander-in-Chief being immediately declared illegitimate by his opponents because he won merely 43% percent of the vote—more than any of his opponents, but nowhere close to a majority of the popular vote. That same president became only the second in U.S. history to be impeached six years later. His successor would face cries of illegitimacy even fiercer than he’d experienced when his margin of victory in the decisive state of Florida was so razor thin that the Supreme Court was left to make the decision—and did so in a 5-4 vote along party lines. The brief post-9/11 mood of national unity that followed was soon shattered by the divisive war in Iraq, then by another close, ugly election in 2004. By 2008, a new kind of candidate promised to bring the country together as president. Needless to say, he was unsuccessful.

So here we are today, and our national politics are more toxic than at any point in my lifetime. There are plenty of events that have brought us here: the Gingrich Revolution, the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal, the 2000 election, the war in Iraq, the Great Recession, the birth of the Tea Party, the passage of the Affordable Care Act, the Merrick Garland non-confirmation, and the 2016 election, for starters. There are plenty of people to blame: Bill Clinton, New Gingrich, George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, Fox News, Mitch McConnell, Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi, Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, and Donald Trump all crowd the top of a long list.

However we got here, whoever brought us here, we’re here now, and it’s never been uglier. And unfortunately, with the midterms less than a month away, it’s probably about to get worse. Get ready for a month of vicious, personal, occasionally outright false attacks from the halls of Congress, the studios of cable news shows, and the president’s Twitter feed. The two quotes that introduced this blog post illustrate the mindset of Washington right now: all that matters is winning. Morality, civility, and ethics are secondary to victory in our current scorched-earth politics.

But you don’t have to buy into that. Washington’s politics don’t have to poison your discourse.

When the party you support or the politician you voted for does something immoral or unjust, you don’t have to stand at the barricades and defend them to your dying breath. You don’t have to sling mud in the direction of their attackers, you don’t have to change the subject to the sins of the opposition, and you don’t have to make it personal. Cable news will do that, I promise. Politicians in Washington will do it too, that’s a guarantee. But you don’t have to.

For years now, we mostly have been. As our national politics have gotten more and more toxic the last few decades, our discourse has followed suit. Despite a near-universal dislike of politicians, we’ve started to act like them: obfuscating, rationalizing, and slandering…all because we want our guy to win. But maybe there’s a better way.

Maybe when you see a Beto sign in your neighbor’s yard, you can remember the homemade Christmas cookies she brings you every year before you dismiss of her as a libtard. Maybe when you see your uncle wearing a MAGA hat you can remember the baseball games he took you to as a child before you sneer at his small-mindedness. And maybe, just maybe, when you take the risk of talking to somebody with different politics from you, you can listen more than you talk.

In national politics right now, the only thing that matters is beating the other side. Maybe that works in the halls of Congress, but we just can’t operate that way in our schools, our workplaces, and our churches. Because when you hate your neighbor, there’s far more at stake than a political win.

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“For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”

- Jesus Christ (Mark 8:36)

A Clear Sightline (Friday Devotional)

The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts; so I am helped, and my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him.

- Psalm 28:7

When I got on I-35 Tuesday afternoon, I knew I was in for a rough drive. The forecast predicted a 100% chance of thunderstorms within the hour, which the radar confirmed when I pulled it up. And even without the help from the professionals at Weather.com, all I had to do was look up at the dark clouds looming over me to see that a storm was coming.

Sure enough, within 5 minutes thunder was booming and my windshield was being battered by rain. Even on their fastest setting, my wipers’ desperate attempts to keep the windshield clear were laughable. I maneuvered around several meek drivers and got into the fast lane, hoping I might be able to outrun the storm if I kicked it into high gear. But as the rain got heavier, I knew that plan wasn’t going to pay off, and finally had to give up, moving my foot over to the brake pedal. For the next half hour, I and everyone around me went about 50 mph below the speed limit—unable to see clearly, our only option was to slow down.

That simple, commonsense driving principle is one that can be applied spiritually too. Sometimes in life a goal or dream can become so all-consuming that, before you know it, you’ve lost track of where God fits into your plans. Where He was once at the center of everything you did, now He doesn’t even seem to be on the periphery. Filled with ambition, your view of God is obstructed by your own plans.

When that happens, the flesh cries out to slam your foot on the gas, to simply outrun your uncertainty. But as satisfying as that may feel for a moment, it’s not a sustainable course—you’re just begging to crash and burn. The truth is, when your plans take you somewhere you can’t see God, it’s time to slow down.

In Psalm 28, David came to God in prayer, confessing that he didn’t know where he would be without his Lord. He understood God as more than just a crutch, but as his “strength and shield,” the entire reason for his success. For David, a victory achieved apart from God would be no victory at all.

We ought to have the same attitude toward God as what David described. No plan, goal, or dream is worth pursuing if it is outside God’s will, because nothing you accomplish alone can compare to what you can do with Him. So the next time you find the vision for your life becoming tunnel vision, crowding out even your Lord, remember this: better to walk with God then crash without Him.

One-Hit Wonder (Friday Devotional)

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.

- Ecclesiastes 3:1

When Hoyt Wilhelm stepped up to the plate on April 23, 1952 for his first major league at-bat, nobody expected much. The rookie pitcher was known for his wily knuckleball, not his hitting ability. Like they did with most pitchers, fans simply hoped he wouldn’t embarrass himself—or the team. If he managed to draw a walk, they would have applauded.

But the 28-year old reliever had something bigger in mind. So when pitcher Dick Hoover threw a fastball down the middle of the plate, Wilhelm swung with all his might and belted a long fly ball to right field. The outfielder gave chase for a moment, but then stopped short, watching in dismay as the ball sailed over the fence. In his first major league at-bat, Hoyt Wilhelm had hit a home run.

Over a 21-year career, Wilhelm would distinguish himself as one of the game’s greatest relief pitchers, earning 8 All-Star nods, MVP votes in 4 different seasons, and ultimately a spot in baseball’s Hall of Fame. But in 432 at-bats, he would never hit another home run.

We don’t always get to choose when the good things in life—or the bad things—happen to us. Sometimes everything comes together in one glorious moment, other times even the smallest victories are scattered over weeks, months, even years. For all the control we try to assert on our lives, time is the one thing we can never quite get a firm grip on. The ebbs and flows of life are regularly beyond our authority.

The words of Ecclesiastes 3:1—“for everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven”—are quoted often to make this point, but the implication of the last two words is typically neglected. The timing of the big and small events which shape us, while often beyond our control, is well within God’s grasp. The seasons of our lives, as unpredictable as they sometimes seem to us, remain under heaven.

So for believers, our task is not to constantly seek new ways to exert control over life’s timing, but to entrust it to the God of heaven and earth. As convenient as it would be to have all the answers up front, faith means finding security in God instead of our own desires and plans. Sometimes that means a life full of victories, and sometimes it means your only home run comes in your first at-bat. But in God’s hands, even the strangest timing is the best timing.

September Reading Log

Lots of great reading this month. Take a look!

4 Articles I Like This Month

"My Affair with the Intellectual Dark Web" by Meghan Daum, Medium. 29 minutes.

In our polarized time, it seems like nuance is a dirty word on both the right and the left, like straying from the established narratives will get you shouted down immediately. Feeling this way, the author of this piece starting finding solace—and eventually some realizations about what she really thought—in the videos of a group of professors, scientists, and writers coined the "intellectual dark web." Good topic, excellently written.

"Meet the Table Busser Who's Worked at the Same Wilmette Pancake House for 54 Years" by Christopher Borrelli, Chicago Tribune. 13 minutes.

Remember early last month when Geoffrey Owens (Elvin from The Cosby Show) was photographed working at Trader Joe's and a national conversation started about 'job shaming'? Consider this a companion piece to that story. Othea Loggan has worked as a busboy at Walker Bros. Pancake House for 54 years without a promotion or significant pay increase, not to mention benefits. Does he want more? Should he want more? Or is it a simple, honest job enough? Excellent article that offers these questions and more with no tidy answers.

"The Ideological Blindness at the Heart of Media Bias" by David French, National Review Online. 6 minutes.

Fox News (and its viewer-in-chief) would have you believe that the press is malevolently biased against conservatives. It's not; the vast majority of reporters are just trying to get and write the truth. But, says David French, that doesn't mean they're unbiased. In the average newsroom, he points out, diversity is extremely important, even required...except when it comes to political ideology. This right-of-center column addresses the topic of media bias without the fiery rhetoric that typically accompanies that topic. Definitely worth reading, whether you are a conservative, progressive, or centrist.

"A Lifelong Dream Washed Away" by Dave Sheinin, The Washington Post. 16 minutes.

Brian Mazone spent nearly a decade pursuing his dream to be a major league pitcher. When he was finally called up to start for the Philadelphia Phillies, his would-be debut was rained out, and he never got another chance. This is his story.

GOD IN DISPUTE: "CONVERSATIONS" AMONG GREAT CHRISTIAN THINKERS by Roger E. Olson

As a pastor, I consider myself a professional theologian (as I believe all pastors are.) However, since my theological studies happen in the field rather than in a classroom or seminar, I've always had some impatience with reading and learning about Augustine, Luther, Calvin, Barth, and the rest. It's not that I think their contributions to our understanding of God are unimportant, it's just that they seem to get bogged down in spiritual minutia that I find tiresome. "Give me the Cliff Notes!" I often wanted to cry out during my Texts and Traditions classes in seminary.

So, in his own way, Dr. Roger Olson, a professor of theology and ethics at Truett Seminary, did. God In Dispute is a series of mock conversations/debates between theologians throughout the history of the church, dating as far back as the church fathers up until the postmoderns of the 21st century. By imagining what Calvin might say to Zwingli or Barth to Brunner, Olson manages to distill some of history's greatest theological arguments down to something bite-sized and easily understandable for the layman (or the pastor wanting to brush up on his theological studies.)

These fictional conversations, which take place everywhere from ships bound for Rome to German castles to the gates of heaven itself, helpfully summarize the positions of some of Christianity's greatest thinkers and greatest heretics by watching these important minds square off in (mostly) civilized debate. You, the reader, are then left to make your own determinations. Preceding each conversation, Dr. Olson provides a page or two of context and then another page or two after the end of each conversation to let you know who history says "won" the debate.

More than anything, I'm grateful to this book for reminding me that theology doesn't have to be dull and tedious—that for all their squabbling over seemingly insignificant details, the church is better for the work of Tertullian, Aquinas, Wesley, and many others. Admittedly, reading the primary sources isn't as easy as reading Dr. Olson's Cliff Notes...but he just may have inspired me to give it another shot. 

GROUNDWORK OF THE METAPHYSICS OF MORALS by Immanuel Kant

Having finished Dr. Olson's book, I decided I was never going to be as inclined to reread one of those primary sources as I was at that moment. So with trepidation, I picked up a philosophy book that bored me to tears in seminary, hoping that a few years of maturation on my part would make it a more fruitful experience. Yeah, not so much.

Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals is an artifact of Enlightenment philosophy, Immanuel Kant's attempt to find a supreme moral principle (which he called "the categorical imperative") through reason alone, with no regard for experience, emotion, etc. And it. Is. Dense. At 78 pages, it took me nearly 3 hours to barrel through, underlining passages that seemed important while struggling with the dawning realization that, yep, this was still way over my head.

Philosophers prize this book as a brilliant exercise in moral philosophy, and I'll take their word for it. For non-philosophers like myself and you (presumably), here are the main takeaways: 1) the categorical imperative, as defined by Kant: "act only according to that maxim whereby you can, at the same time, will that it should become a universal law." 2) As such, human beings are to be understood as ends unto themselves, never as means to an end.

These are good takeaways, albeit ones I already knew from reading this book the first time and then refreshing myself on its principles with Dr. Olson's book. If you want to see how those principles are logically proved by Kant, how they factor in concepts like autonomy and freedom, and what they say about free will, then give this book a try. Hopefully your brain won't hurt as much as mine did.

WHAT I TALK ABOUT WHEN I TALK ABOUT RUNNING by Haruki Murakami

Haruki Murakami, though renowned as one of the world's greatest living writers, was a name I knew only by reputation, so I couldn't imagine a better springboard into his writing than a book about his experiences running. As a lover of both writing and running, this memoir instantly appealed to me, and a recommendation from my friend and fellow pastor (and reader and runner) Jeff Gravens was enough to convince me.

The book is less a narrative than a collection of essays/journal entries, all about Murakami's love of running and experiences doing so. Every year for more than two decades, Murakami has run at least one marathon, as well as one ultramarathon and a series of triathlons along the way. The chapters in this book describe how he became a runner, how he trains, and what compels him to spend so much time and energy running.

But, as you might suspect from a novelist, it's about more than that. Using running as a lens, Murakami also talks about his life and the craft of writing. Running, he makes clear, is more than a hobby for him, it is a metaphor for his sense of self, even a source of meaning. Without ever stretching the metaphor beyond comprehension, Murakami convincingly shows how important the solitary exercise of running has been to him over the years.

For runners, I'd say this a must-read (and a pretty quick one). For non-runners, I'm not so sure. For all the insights into his life and his craft, you've got to read a lot about breathing, muscle soreness, etc. For a runner, this is familiar, comfortable territory; for others it may be a little like listening to someone talk about their fantasy football team—more fun for the speaker than the listener. As for me, I left the book with my first itch to run another marathon since birth of my son—stay tuned to see whether I decide to scratch it anytime soon.

THE WIND-UP BIRD CHRONICLE by Haruki Murakami

...what was this?

Seems like a strange question to ask after 600 pages, but that's where I found myself after finishing The Wind-Up Chronicle, my second Haruki Murakami book this month and first experience with his fiction. Beginning with a happily unemployed husband's search for his wife's missing cat, the book ends up going a million different directions—one moment the protagonist is chatting with his teenage neighbor May Kasahara, the next he is befriending a psychic named Malta Kano and her sister Creto, then he is descending into a well that leads to another world, then he is suddenly working for a woman named Nutmeg and her son Cinnamon, and finally he's returning to the well netherworld to rescue his wife from her evil brother. Yeah. It's a lot.

Here's the thing, though. I kept reading.  Something about Murakami's writing—the imagination, the dreamlike storytelling, the way he leaves you simultaneously mystified and spellbound—makes you want to know what happens next, even if you don't understand what it is or why it happened. Even when I was utterly lost, I was always entertained. It was a truly confounding read in every sense of the word.

I've never read a story like this one, and I mean that as both a praise and a criticism. Part of me wants to stash this book away and never touch it again, another part wants to wait a week and read it all over again. Credit to Murakami for this: either way, I guarantee you I'll be thinking about it.

SMART BASEBALL: THE STORY BEHIND THE OLD STATS THAT ARE RUINING THE GAME, THE NEW ONES THAT ARE RUNNING IT, AND THE RIGHT WAY TO THINK ABOUT BASEBALL by Keith Law

Anyone who follows baseball today can tell you that the way we talk about the game has changed a lot in the last 20 years. Once upon a time, we judged who was the best pitcher in the league by his win-loss record paired with his E.R.A.; now such conversations center around newfangled stats like FIP, ERA+, and BABIP. Same for hitters—discussing their prowess using batting average and RBIs makes you a dinosaur now; it's all about OPS+, ISO, and the almighty WAR. Like it or not, analytics have changed baseball forever, and getting with the times means knowing how to separate the statistical wheat from the chaff. Smart Baseball, the work of ESPN's Keith Law, purports to help the average fan do so.

The first section of the book deals with the old-fashioned stats that analytics (and sometimes just good ol' critical thinking) have revealed to be fatally flawed. With a mixture of anecdotes, math, and wit, Law pokes holes in some of baseball's most sacred numbers in a way that will leave even the staunchest traditionalist saying, "he's got a point there." Most of this is probably old news for the sabermetrically-minded fan, but it was nice to see it in cohesive chapters instead of isolated tweets.

The second section deals with more analytical stats, from the basics (on-base percentage) to the more complex and all-inclusive stats measuring player value (wRC+ and WAR). This was the meat of the book for me, since I was aware of all of these stats but far from fluent in them.

The third section addresses and projects where the game may be headed in light of what analytics has wrought, talking about everything from MLB's Statcast product to teams' efforts to prevent injuries. This, for me, was the weakest section of the book by its very nature, since it was more speculative than analytical. However, even in projecting, Law draws upon what we do know and never makes any Jetsons-like predictions that are likely to make him look silly decades down the road.

Overall, I liked this book a lot, which is particularly remarkable since I don't care for the author (I find him almost unbearably smug). In a format like this, rather than the quick hits of his TV appearances and tweets, Law's sarcasm manages to amuse instead of condescend, and he always lets the information drive the argument. For fans interested in sabermetrics, whether you are deeply skeptical or completely indoctrinated, I recommend this as an accessible, interesting primer.

ESSENTIAL SUB-MARINER VOL. 1 by Stan Lee, Roy Thomas, Gene Colan, Bill Everett, et al.

Some superheroes just work better as supporting characters. After reading this volume, I'm convinced that Namor the Sub-Mariner, King of Atlantis, is one of those.

Namor has the distinction, along with Captain America and the Human Torch (not the one from the Fantastic Four) of being a Golden Age character who was resurrected by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby when they started building the Marvel Universe. After being awakened from decades of amnesia by the Human Torch (this time I do mean the one from the Fantastic Four) in FF #4, Namor quickly became one of the most beloved guest stars in the Marvel Universe, as well as one of the original antiheroes. Depending on the needs of the story, he could be invading the surface world one day and teaming up with the Avengers the next—and given his brash, arrogant, yet noble personality, you bought it either way. As popular as he became in these guest appearances, it didn't take long before he began sharing the Tales to Astonish mag with the Hulk, where each character got a 12-page story. Eventually both graduated to their own titles, and this Essential volume collects all of his Tales to Astonish appearances as well as the first issue of his eponymous series.

My verdict, as my introduction gives away, is that it doesn't really work. Thanks to his role as ruler of the undersea kingdom of Atlantis, a solo series offered an opportunity for world building, but the short length of the stories in Tales to Astonish meant Stan Lee didn't have the space for it. Namor's unique personality (he is, frankly, kind of a jerk) sets him apart from the more classical do-gooders, but in these stories he is nevertheless mostly resigned to fighting off traditional baddies. With an entire royal court at the disposal of the writers, his supporting cast is basically limited to his love interest Dorma and wizened chief counselor Vashti. As for his villains, they are largely unmemorable (though the warlord Krang and Attuma would continue to plague his kingdom for decades.)

Overall, this series reads like the B-side of the record—okay but inessential. I didn't hate it, but I don't imagine I'll return to it any time soon. If you want a great Sub-Mariner story, you're better off finding it in the pages of The Fantastic Four, The Avengers, or the Incredible Hulk.

ESSENTIAL DAZZLER VOL. 1 by Danny Fingeroth, Frank Springer, Tom DeFalco, John Romita Jr., et. al

My question when I bought this particular Essential volume was simple: is there really such thing as "essential" Dazzler stories? The answer: no, but not for a lack of effort on Marvel's part.

Dazzler is a character that Marvel reeeeally wanted to work. Conceived as a multimedia character who would function as a sales vehicle for both comics and records (as Kiss had previously done), she was created by a committee of Marvel writers and editors, then introduced as a guest star smack dab in the middle of the Dark Phoenix Saga, arguably the greatest X-Men story of all time. Springboarding off that appearance, Dazzler was given her own monthly title, the first 21 issues of which are collected in this volume. Over the course of those 21 issues (plus that initial X-Men appearance), Dazzler encounters just about every popular Marvel character, from Spider-Man and the Hulk to heroes-on-the-rise She-Hulk and Spider-Woman to villains Doctor Doom and Galactus.

From her introduction, Dazzler, a.k.a. Alison Blaire, was conceived as a mutant who doesn't want to be a superhero, just a singer (initially disco, then rock). Her mutant power makes her a living transducer, meaning she can convert sound into light, a skill which helps her performances and can also be weaponized when trouble strikes. And, despite her best efforts, trouble strikes a lot—for someone who doesn't want to be a superhero, Ali Blaire has to fight a lot of supervillains.

The result is a comic that mostly just feels like it's trying too hard. A supporting cast was introduced early, but perhaps sensing that audiences didn't latch on to them, several of those characters were quietly shuffled off the board. A few potential nemeses showed up in the first few issues, but were largely abandoned in favor of already established villains. And guest stars—oh, the guest stars. Particularly in the 1970s, Marvel had a reliable strategy for new characters: make sure they met Spider-Man, the Thing, and Doctor Doom as early as possible, so that fans of those popular characters would buy the issue for their appearance and thereby be introduced to the new character. With Dazzler, Marvel ran the equivalent of a full-court press, ensuring that not just the big hitters, but all their popular characters ran into her as soon as possible.

But despite Marvel's best efforts, Dazzler just isn't that compelling a character. She has some fun adventures along the way (her encounter with Galactus is just so kooky I couldn't help but love it), but when you combine formulaic writing with mediocre art and a boring character, you've made a recipe for a run-of-the-mill comic, not the Next Big Thing. Dazzler would get 20+ more issues (which are collected in Essential Dazzler Vol. 2) before Marvel gave up and folded her into the X-Men books, where she continues to exist as a C-list character. Truthfully, that's probably where she belongs—she can be a fun character, but she's far from essential.