2022 New Year's Resolutions Scorecard

Every year, I make a lofty, lengthy list of resolutions for the next 12 months: habits I want to form, skills I want to learn, and goals I want to accomplish. And on December 31, I look back at what I promised myself I'd accomplish and see how close I came. Some years it goes great, other years...well, you'll see for yourself.

So without further ado, here's the scorecard for 2021's resolutions!

1. 1. Translate one Old Testament verse and one Greek verse every day

I made an honest effort at this one in January, only to realize that my facility at Greek has gone from novice to beginner and that at Hebrew it's gone from beginner to 'well, I know what shalom means, but that's about it.'

So pretty quickly I adapted this resolution, promising myself I'd spend 15 minutes per day on languages: studying vocabulary flashcards, reading through my old Greek and Hebrew textbooks, or painstakingly parsing short verses. At 15 minutes a day, I figured I'd be back at the level of a seminary student by the end of the year.

Maybe I would have been if I'd stuck with it. But by March, this resolution had bit the dust.

Score: 0 out of 10

2. Read one systematic theology ✔

Over the years, I've accumulated a decent collection of systematic theologies, the kinds of opuses that scholars spend their entire careers thinking through and writing. They look great on a shelf, no doubt about it. But they're also intimidating—so much so that I own far more than I've read. So I resolved that, over the course of 365 days, I'd wade through at least one of these tomes.

My choice was Institutes of the Christian Religion by John Calvin, arguably the most famous of them all (unless you count Paul's Epistle to the Romans.) At 5 pages per day, I made it through the first 200 pages in no time and was well on my way to finishing by the summer.

Then I got lazy. Weeks would go by with that big ol' two-volume set mocking me from my bookshelf, daring me to pick up where I left off. So when Thanksgiving rolled around, I decided it was time to get serious. And at a rate of 45 pages per day during the month of December, I finished the 1,521st page yesterday morning, December 31.

What did I learn? What did I think? Check back in a couple days, when I post my December reading log!

Score: 1 out of 10

3. Spend 30 minutes writing each day

I literally gave up on this one on January 1. Not January 2. January 1.

The most frustrating thing about that is that this particular resolution was an adaptation of one I'd been habitually failing to accomplish for years: writing a book. And ironically, I did write a book this year, a collection of daily Advent devotionals. Alas, for the first time since beginning this annual exercise, writing a book was not the stated resolution. Simply put, I outsmarted myself. No points.

Score: 1 out of 10

4. Read or listen to 5 sermons per week

I'm tempted to give myself half credit on this one, because well into the spring I was still doing this. Every morning I'd find a podcast or YouTube video of a favorite preacher—Charlie Dates, Alistair Begg, Fred Craddock, MLK, Beth Moore, etc.—and listen to a sermon during my morning run.

Unfortunately, my runs started getting more and more inconsistent as the weather got warmer, and by the summer both my runs around the neighborhood and my discipline for this resolution had gone out the window.

I want to give myself half credit for that determined start. But 3 months out of 12 is not 50%.

Score: 1 out of 10

5. Educate myself about hip hop and country music

This resolution came out of an interest in both genres at the tail end of 2021—the former a long-festering curiosity, the latter entirely the result of watching Ken Burns' Country Music documentary. I figured I'd spent the year reading about these two uniquely American musical genres, watching more documentaries, and, of course, listening to a lot of music.

If you were to look at my bookshelf or my iTunes library, you'd assume I followed through on this resolution. Alas, purchasing the necessary media is not the same as putting them to use. For all my curiosity about hip hop and country, I rarely did even the most basic legwork of listening to a song or two throughout the day.

I've acquired everything I need to fulfill this resolution. Just need to, you know, do it.

Score: 1 out of 10

6. Become a coffee snob

Every morning, I wake up to the sound of fresh coffee beans grinding. The living room is filled with a toasty, malty smell, courtesy of Austin's Cuvée Emporium blend. I pour myself half a cup—I drink it black, no flavoring need—and lovingly, slowly sip it as I start my reading for the day.

Sounds like the behavior of a coffee snob, right? I can put a checkmark next to this resolution, right? Wrong. This was my exact routine a year ago. I changed precisely nothing.

The goal was to go deep on coffee snobbery: to buy a French press, learn how to make a pourover, familiarize myself with where the best beans come from, that kind of thing. Instead, I stuck with the same grind-and-brew machine Lindsey and I got as a wedding present 11 years ago.

But can I let you in on a little secret? I'm kind of fine with it. Our Cuisinart isn't as cool as the glass Chemex you see on sale at your local hipster coffee shop, but it's plenty good for me. Sure beats a Keurig, I promise you that.

Score: 1 out of 10

7. Plan and reflect upon each day

Every self-improvement video on YouTube insists you should start the day with a written plan and end the day by journaling about that plan. And they're probably right—I mean, it sure sounds like a good idea.

But I ran into two problems with this one. First, the nature of pastoring is that your plan for the day gets dashed to pieces by 10:00 AM at least once a week—all it takes is one phone call to make a study day into a day spent in a hospital waiting room. Second, I'm just not a journaler by nature, never have been. I can log activities all day long, but pouring out my innermost thoughts on paper has never come naturally to me nor been something I seemed to get much out of.

I still think there's something to be said for this resolution, but it's likely to be something I do more informally moving forward, not something I commit to paper.

Score: 1 out of 10

8. Put my phone down

"That's right, children, Daniel made this resolution every year without fail until the day he died. And legend has it, if you listen to the wind on cold nights, you can still hear him whispering, "This year I'm going to be more present and less focused on screens.'"

Score: 1 out of 10

9. Do one nice thing for Lindsey every day

At the beginning of the year, I wrote every date of the year in my journal so I could write down the nice thing I'd done that day for Lindsey. Seeing all those blank dates was my path to accountability on this resolution, my way of ensuring I wouldn't neglect this important daily task.

...at least until I feel woefully behind and finally gave up. Then those 5 pages in my journal became an annoying, ever-present reminder that I wasn't going to hit 100% on 2022's resolutions. Not even close, as it turned out.

Doing nice things daily for your spouse remains a good idea. But the reason I'm leaving it off the list for 2023 is something I discovered this year: it's easy to become legalistic and make it more about checking the box than actually showing kindness. Better, I think, to engage in this practice organically and thoughtfully rather than as a daily requirement.

Score: 1 out of 10

10. Say what I mean and mean what I say

Ok, this one stings a little. I resolved that in 2022 I was going to be braver with my speech,  less worried about people's opinion of me than about being honest. It was a well-intentioned resolution, written so that I wouldn't fall prey to the temptation of being a politician instead of a preacher.

The problem is that choosing your words carefully is an inherent part of being a pastor. My job is to rightly handle the Word of truth, and to do that means exercising some degree of caution. Furthermore, I have to deal with people, including in times of stress and conflict—and the last thing anybody needs in that situation is for the pastor to be reckless with his words or make an anxious moment more fraught with an ill-advised comment. 

I'd say there's still room for me to abide by the original sentiment of this resolution, to preach more fearlessly and worry more about my integrity than about people's perception of me. But "say what I mean and mean what I say," straightforward as it sounds, is easier said than done. Better sometimes to be careful than frank.

Score: 1 out of 10

------------------------------------------

Final Score: 1 out of 10, or 10%. Let's see how that stacks up against previous years:

2018- 8.5 out of 13, or 65%.

2019- 3 out of 13, or 23%.

2020- 5.5 out of 13, or 42%.

2021- 4 out of 9, or 44%

So yeah, 10% is a big yikes, an all-time low. However good my intentions were going into 2022, I clearly lacked the plan and the will to turn those intentions into action. Honestly, given how busy and tumultuous 2022 was, I'm not particularly surprised at the low score. But I am embarrassed by it.

Learning from the past year, my resolutions for 2023 will be SMARTer (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, and Time-Bound). Tune back in tomorrow to see what those resolutions will be!

Christmas Can't Be Cancelled

I’m not sure what exactly Mary had in mind for the birth of her firstborn, but I’m certain things didn’t go as planned. Instead of being delivered in the comfort of her home in Nazareth, her baby emerged in a Bethlehem stable. Instead of coming when she and Joseph were ready for him, he came in the fullness of God’s timing. Instead of being the product of her marriage to a Nazarene carpenter, the child was conceived by the Holy Spirit, the Son of God.

And foremost on my mind today, when Christ was born, Mary and Joseph were on their own. Their families and neighbors were many miles away in Nazareth. No record exists of a midwife to aid Mary in her labor and delivery. When Christ was born, it was just Mary, Joseph, and, eventually, Jesus.

I was mindful of that this morning because of my family’s own experience this Christmas. Like most families, we have a host of Christmas traditions, and things really kick into high gear on December 24^th. We’d planned for breakfast at my parents, a church service at 5:00, and then more family time with Lindsey’s extended family afterwards. Christmas morning, her parents and grandparents would arrive at 8:30, we’d go to church afterwards, then head straight over to my parents’ for more celebration. Lots of presents, lots of chaos, lots of fun.

COVID had other plans. After a morning of coughing, fatigue, and generally feeling crummy, Lindsey tested positive. The next morning, I did too. For me and Lindsey—not to mention our kids, ages 3 and 6—plans would have to change. No Christmas Eve service. No fun at Grandmommy’s. No worship on Christmas morning, at least not in person. No photos with extended family to mark the holiday. Practically speaking, Christmas was cancelled. Like Mary and Joseph so long ago, we were on our own this year.

Except that, on that first Christmas, the Lord refused to let the holy family sink into the despair of loneliness. Before Mary and Joseph could blink, a group of shepherds showed up at the manger—they’d heard from a heavenly host that Christ was born and had come to worship him. Jesus’s birthday was humble, to be sure, but it was not a solitary affair.

And neither was our Christmas. Starting the night of Christmas Eve, I got text message after text message from my church family, telling me how much they’d missed us and how sorry they were we were sick. When I locked our front door that night, I found presents for our kids on the front porch. When the world was still waking up on Christmas morning, my kids were already FaceTiming with their grandparents. And as the day progressed, the messages continued to flood in, reminding us moment by moment that we are missed, that we are loved, that we are not on our own.

How appropriate for Christmas to serve as a reminder: no matter the circumstances, you are never truly alone. Even when your plans fail, the Lord’s endure. Hard as it is to imagine at times, in all things God works for the good of those who love him.

Christ is born. The Word became flesh. God bless us, everyone.

November Reading Log

 

Shortest reading log ever...it's been a busy season. Expect another short one next month, but then (hopefully) I'll be back in full swing in January!

Reading Through the Fantastic Four- #19-40 (v. 3)

I would love to tell you Chris Claremont followed up his legendary run on Uncanny X-Men with an equally excellent time at the helm of Fantastic Four. I would love to tell you that, really. Unfortunately, despite some interesting nuggets here and there, Claremont's run, which ran from issue #4 through #32 of this third volume of Marvel's First Family, sees an old dog unable to learn new tricks, leaving readers with a book that never quite feels right.

The good: Claremont introduces Valeria von Doom, the daughter of Susan Richards and Doctor Doom in an alternate universe. Valeria was immediately a hit with fans and proved so interesting that she warranted her own short-lived spinoff title. Also in the good camp was a storyline that saw Reed's mind trapped in Doctor Doom's body, the sort of Freaky Friday story that made you think, "I can't believe they haven't done this already!"

The bad: while in the latter half of his run Claremont listened to the criticisms he was receiving and toned down the crossovers with his old X-Men and Captain Britain characters, this never really feels like a Fantastic Four book, more like a Chris Claremont book. It's hard to explain, but he just doesn't have a handle on these characters; what was supposed to be something of a reboot of the title was almost immediately disposed of when his run came to an end, with all of his changes immediately retconned.

Ultimately, this is a case of miscasting: Chris Claremont is a good writer, but not the right fit for the FF. His successors, Jeph Loeb and artist Carlos Pacheco would get the book back on solid ground before yielding the floor to all-time great pairing Mark Waid and Mark Weiringo. More on Loeb-Pacheco next month!

LEADERSHIP IN TURBULENT TIMES by Doris Kearns Goodwin

One of the reasons I so enjoy reading presidential memoirs and biographies is the case studies they offer in leadership. By reading how these real-life leaders handled real-life crises, I'm able to draw lessons that resonate much more with me than any list of principles. In Leadership in Turbulent Times, historian Doris Kearns Goodwin gives both, offering explicit education in leadership from the lives of the presidents she's spent her career studying.

The first section of the book looks at the early life and formation of the four men her book deals with: Abraham Lincoln, Theodore Roosevelt, Franklin D. Roosevelt, and Lyndon B. Johnson. For those who, like me, have already read her bestselling books on these subjects, this part of the book is review, a distillation of the early chapters in those works. But in the section section she gets to what the book's all about. Using a case study from each leader—Lincoln's drafting and release of the Emancipation Proclamation, TR's navigation of a mining strike, FDR's first hundred days, and LBJ's crafting and guidance of the Great Society legislation—Kearns Goodwin tells the step-by-step history of these events while also directly pointing out the leadership lessons they offer.

If, like me, you were partially reading her earlier biographies for lessons in leadership, some of this book may be a little on the nose, explicitly stating lessons you'd already picked up between the lines. Nevertheless, the author's prose is as sparkling as ever, her subjects still fascinating, and the lessons remain worth learning. Especially if you haven't read those biographies, this is a great place to place to pick up some pointers on leadership while learning some history along the way.

ESSENTIAL PUNISHER VOL. 3 by Mike Baron, Bill Reinhold, Mark Texeira, Lee Sullivan, et al.

The late 1980s and early 1990s are one of my least favorite periods in comics history. The Punisher is one of my least favorite protagonists. So this volume never had much hope for a sterling review.

With Mike Baron still at the writing helm, as he had been since Frank Castle first got his own ongoing series, the Punisher continues to be portrayed as a gruff, Rambo-esque avenger, a take-no-prisoners killer concerned less with friends or ethics than with his war on criminals. Sometimes that works—there are a few self-contained issues in this book where Punisher takes on a drug kingpin or serial killer in New York City, and there is a thrill in moving from the introduction of said baddie to their extermination at Castle's hands.

The problem is that Baron seems convinced that readers will get bored of that, so he's constantly putting Punisher in situations that seem outside the purview of his war on crime in the inner city. Whether it's a multi-issue arc that sees Punisher taking on insider trading or another that transports him to the jungles of Venezuela, Baron seems intent on putting the character in unfamiliar settings for the sake of variety. Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think variety is something the average Punisher fan was demanding. For my part, these diversions don't work at a character level or a story level.

The art throughout the book is pretty pedestrian, emblematic of its era—lots of sketchy linework à la Todd McFarlane and Rob Liefeld but without their dynamism. It doesn't help that the book never seems to have the same artist from issue to issue despite the consistency on the writing side from Mike Baron.

Like I said, this book never had much of a shot with this reviewer, and it didn't do anything compelling enough to win me over. We'll see how things go in the fourth and final volume, but I'll admit...my expectations are low.

Thanksgiving (Friday Devotional)

 

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

- 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

The leftovers are in the fridge, the Macy’s parade floats are going back in storage, and your extended family’s on their way home. Thanksgiving Day has come to an end. With that annual reminder of God’s blessings in the rearview mirror, what should you do now?

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

With Turkey Day behind us, thoughts now turn to the busyness of the Christmas season. There are cards to send, presents to buy, parties to attend, and cookies to bake. What should be the first item on your to-do list?

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

What about for those whose December will be marked by more loss than joy, more grief than hope? How should those readying for a blue Christmas respond in anticipation of their pain?

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

Gratitude is for more than one day. Worship is for more than one season. Prayer is for more than just hard times. So rejoice always, pray continually, and give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

Able to Endure (Friday Devotional)

 

“May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light.”

- Colossians 1:11-12

Certain prayers are easier than others. When you ask God for a blessing—over your meal, your day, your home, your work, your church, or your child—you probably don’t struggle with making that request. After all, if God gives you what you want, you benefit. The same goes for prayers for protection, forgiveness, and especially prayers of thanksgiving. When God has made you a winner or you’re asking him to do so, those prayers roll right off your tongue.

So most of the blessing Paul extends on the church’s behalf in Colossians 1:11-12 is the kind of prayer you’d like to see someone extend on your behalf. “May you be strong”—check. “Joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light”—check. These are the kinds of things you want to hear in prayers offered on your behalf, because these are the kinds of prayers that, properly answered, make you a winner.

But the middle part of Paul’s blessing may rub you the wrong way: “may you be prepared to endure everything with patience.” Patience? Who said anything about that? Endure everything? Wait, wouldn’t it be simpler for me not to have to endure anything?

This aspect of Paul’s blessing makes an assumption we’re not comfortable with—that trials, suffering, and loss are a part of the Christian life. Jesus told us that if you want to be his disciple, it means taking up your cross, and we tend to misinterpret what he meant by that. We assume it means we should live like Jesus, but forget that it means we should also be willing to suffer like Jesus. We assume it means we should follow Jesus, but forget where he ultimately led. We assume it means we should honor Jesus, but then tend to honor only the parts we’re comfortable with 

The truth of discipleship, as preached and embodied by both Christ and the apostles, is that sometimes life doesn’t go your way, that sometimes on the road to glory you must first carry a cross. Christ did not save us so that we might escape the problems this world throws our way, but so that we might be lights in the darkness. So as you turn your eyes toward heaven in prayer, may you pray not only for strength to overcome your tribulations and for the joy of victory over them, but for the patience to endure them.

Insane Forgiveness (Friday Devotional)

 

Then Peter approached him and asked, “Lord, how many times must I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? As many as seven times?”

“I tell you, not as many as seven,” Jesus replied, “but seventy times seven.”

- Matthew 18:21-22

The definition of insanity, goes the oft-repeated cliché, is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Popularly attributed to Albert Einstein, that witticism speaks to the necessity for changing ineffective habits—if ain’t broke then don’t fix it, but if it is broke, then quit expecting it to work! Repetition only makes sense if what you’re doing is helping you.

So then, what’s the deal with Jesus’ teaching on forgiveness? Asked how often it would be appropriate to forgive a fellow believer, someone with the same spiritual grounding in the grace of God that you have, Jesus responded that seven times—more than twice the amount required by the Law of Moses—was insufficient. Don’t forgive seven times, Jesus said, but seventy times seven.

Isn’t that, well, insane? If someone is wronging you over and over again, if they’re taking advantage of your patience and goodwill, if they simply can’t get their act together, then doesn’t it make more sense for you to just cut them off? Isn’t it more efficient and more reasonable to offer conditional forgiveness instead of unconditional grace?

The answer, quite simply, is yes. Jesus’ command to forgive and forgive and forgive, even when our brothers and sisters continue to stumble, is an entirely unreasonable demand. But it’s also exactly what God does for us. Our Father in heaven loves us so much that, despite our repeated and even willful disobedience, He forgives our sins if we do no more than confess and repent. So mighty is His mercy, so great His grace, that He sent His only Son to secure our salvation, even as we continue to let Him down.

What He asks of His disciples is that we do the same for each other. Even when others call it unreasonable or inefficient or insane, the church is meant to be a place where repentance is always accepted and forgiveness always extended. Does it make sense? No. But then, grace has never been about logic—it’s about love.

Healthy Imitation (Friday Devotional)

 

Whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked.

- 1 John 2:6

On Sunday night and the following morning, my son was down for the count, sick enough that he left our church’s fall festival an hour early and didn’t go to school Monday morning. Hacking cough, fever, runny nose, labored breathing, the works—the kid just felt awful.

My daughter didn’t totally understand what was going on; she was having trouble fathoming why her bubba kept grunting, “Give me space!” whenever she got close to him. After a few rounds of this, we explained to her that Andrew was sick and that’s why he was lying down and kept coughing. She paused to process this for a moment, then her eyes lit up. With the acting prowess of a young Meryl Streep, she threw herself down on the ground, hacked out a few coughs, and then looked up at us. “I sick too, see? Just like Bubba!”

Imitation, as the saying goes, is the sincerest form of flattery. But it’s important to be sure you’re imitating the right things.

If you model your life after this world’s idols, you will give people the impression that those idols’ priorities—be they money, power, fame, or pleasure—are what matters most to you. The more you emulate superstar athletes, political figures, and Hollywood celebrities, the more prone you will become to following in their footsteps even when they veer off track.

In Christ, we have been given the model human being, a literally perfect person who shows us not only the character of God, but what a sinless life looks like. And if we want our lives to bear witness to his, we ought to walk as he walked and live as he lived—we ought to be marked by holiness, mercy, and love.

Inevitably, you’re going to imitate someone. Make sure your choice is the healthy one.

October Reading Log

The end of the month was too busy for a lot of reading, but I had time in the first few weeks to get in some good books. Check out what I enjoyed!

Reading Through the Fantastic Four- #1-18 (v. 3)

From 1974 to 1991, Chris Claremont was the main creative force behind the most popular characters in comics, the X-Men. For better and for worse, that universe's never-ending soap opera was directed by maestro Claremont, who send them through time and space more times than anyone could count and created an ecosystem populated by so many characters you needed a scorecard to keep up. 

Unfortunately for Claremont, by the time he sought greener pastures post-X-Men, his reputation had taken something of a hit, with his verbose, melodramatic style not necessarily seen as a good fit for the oncoming 21st century. He was looking to make a name for himself all over again in a different corner of the Marvel Universe.

He would get that opportunity with the Fantastic Four coming out of the yearlong Heroes Reborn experiment that had crashed and burned. And while Claremont's FF relaunch isn't technically an X-Men book, it sure feels like one around the edges.

Lots of time travel, multiple guest stars from the X-universe, and so many word balloons you start to wonder if Claremont had some dirt on his editor...it all feels pretty run-of-the-mill for Claremont. The changes and new characters he introduces to the book feel destined to be ignored after his departure (they were), and Salvador Larocca's art is a perfect match for the time...not a compliment.

Claremont would continue on the book for nearly 30 more issues, so you'll get a fuller review next month. But for now, let's just say I'm not very impressed.

THE CARE OF SOULS: CULTIVATING A PASTOR'S HEART by Harold L. Senkbeil

To read most books about pastoring nowadays, you would think that the job isn't that different from being a CEO—all about leadership, fundraising, and growth strategies. And in its modern manifestation in the evangelical church, that's not entirely wrong. But what about pastoring, the role of shepherding the flock God has given you? How do you do that?

That's what Harold L. Senkbeil seeks to address in his helpful corrective, The Care of Souls, a book that wades as deeply into theological waters as most pastoral leadership books do in practical matters. In Senkbeil's understanding, the pastor is first and foremost a spiritual director, a teacher of God's Word whose responsibility it is to guide church members toward lives of discipleship. Pastoring, he would say, is not about marketing, it's about sanctification.

As a corrective to intensely practical church growth books like The Purpose-Driven Church and basically everything by Thom Rainer, which I've been known to accuse of being customer service manuals rather than biblical models, The Care of Souls is helpful counterweight. However, if those alternatives are heavy on practicality at the expense of theology, this one runs the opposite risk. After lengthy discursions on sanctification and discipleship, I often found myself wondering, "Ok, but how do you actually do that?"

Furthermore, while Senkbeil is upfront about it in his preface, this book is very Lutheran, to a degree that occasionally becomes distracting to those of us who don't share that background. He has an extremely high church understanding of the pastoral role (not to mention of communion), and that understanding occasionally colors the wisdom he offers—I'm not sure a lot of evangelical pastors could adopt some of his recommendations in their environments without getting run out of the church for being too uppity.

Overall, this was a somewhat confounding book, helpful in its aim but lacking in its execution. The pastorate should be understood from a more biblical and theological place—but I'm not sure this is the book that will start that revolution in thinking.

EX LIBRIS: 100 BOOKS TO READ AND REREAD by Michiko Kakutani

I do love a book about books. This one sees Michiko Kakutani, a longtime reviewer for the New York Times Book Review, offering up brief essays—usually three pages or so—about 100 books across the spectrum of fiction and nonfiction, the literary canon and recent favorites. What it largely ends up amounting to is a giant to-read list for any book lover—and there are worse things out there!

I read this book in large chunks, usually an hour at a time, and I can tell you from personal experience that is the wrong way to read it. This book is best consumed slowly, one chapter at a time over a period of a few months. I rushed through it, swallowing when I should have savored, and my reading experience was the poorer for it. Put it on your nightstand, read a chapter every night before bed, and you'll finish it in no time.

My poor reading strategy aside, this isn't the best version of this kind of book I've ever read. Kakutani, a prolific and talented writer, just scratches the surface with the snippets she gives on each book; I would have liked more, especially on literary behemoths like Moby Dick or Great Expectations. And while the variety of different books she chooses gives the book some unpredictability and diversity, it also makes you wonder what binds the list together. Are these her favorite 100 books? The best 100 books? The first 100 she thought of? Or, as seems to be the case, a list of 100 books carefully curated to help sell this book?

One final word: the design of this book, from its binding to the illustrations within to the layout, is gorgeous. That's not something I normally notice or care about, but you can't ignore ii in this case. It's clear a lot of thought and effort was put into making this a book you'd want to own, not just copy and paste the list.

A scattered, seemingly random review, I know...but hopefully an enjoyable one. And in all those ways, entirely appropriate for this book.

GOD SAVE TEXAS: A JOURNEY INTO THE SOUL OF THE LONE STAR STATE by Lawrence Wright

What is it exactly that makes Texas so irresistible?

That's the basic question motivating God Save Texas, a wide-ranging exploration of the state's cities, politics, and culture by award-winning writer Lawrence Wright. Written from a remove of healthy skepticism but a foundation of deep, almost unexplainable love, Wright seems almost confounded by the state he calls home, a place he just can't quit despite all the reasons he should. An unabashed liberal, Wright indicates several times that he's heard the siren songs of Hollywood and Manhattan and even answered them a time or two—he's a longtime contributor to the New Yorker and has written several screenplays—but nevertheless always feels like an outsider in those distant lands. He always comes home; he can't seem to help himself. Texas, like Thanos, is inevitable.

Reading less like a sequential nonfiction book than a series of related articles, Wright spends some chapters diving into Texas' most notable cities—Dallas, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, Marfa—and others giving overviews of obvious Texas subjects (its presidents, its oil, its music). Throughout the book, Wright is both narrating and investigating the state's inconsistent identity and trying to figure out where it's going. Is Texas really going to turn blue one of these days, or is conservatism so deeply ingrained that its big cities will forever be islands of liberalism in a sea of red? Is Texas a rural frontier for cowboys or the gleaming home of astronauts and Elon Musk? If Texas is a law-and-order state, why is unabashed pothead Willie Nelson beloved by all?

It's undoubtedly a book with more questions than answers, but by asking the questions, Wright gives a vivid portrait of the state in all its shame and all its glory. Most importantly, for all his journalistic bona fides, it is written from a place of deep love for a state that doesn't always love him back. For anyone who loves this beautiful, glorious, maddening state, God Save Texas is a crucial read.

ESSENTIAL PUNISHER VOL. 2 by Mike Baron, Klaus Janson, Whilce Portacio, et. al

Following his introduction in Amazing Spider-Man #129, a string of guest appearances, and an initial miniseries, the post-Dark Knight Returns demand for grim-and-gritty comics led to the Punisher's first ongoing series, which would stretch for 104 issues before its eventual cancellation in 1995. With writer at the helm Mike Baron for all 20 of the initial issues, this is a straight crime comic, with almost no indication it exists in a Marvel Universe of superheroes, aliens, and the like.

Baron is a capable writer, though his staccato, noir-influenced pacing works better with some artists than others. He wears his law-and-order politics on his sleeve, but given that he was writing in 1987, those politics are of their time and a good fit for the character. Most importantly, he introduces the "guy in the chair" character of Microchip, the Punisher's trusty weapons procurer, computer hacker, and mechanic.

The stories in this volume are typically one or two-parters, with the notable exception of one lengthy arc in which the Punisher unsuccessfully tries to bring down the Kingpin. Seeing Frank Castle go up against a worthy adversary like this makes for a nice change of pace; I hope we'll see more confrontations between the two in future issues.

If you like crime books, this comic is probably a good fit for you. I'm on record as saying it's not for me, but I can see the appeal. Two more volumes to go!

Never Walk Alone (Friday Devotional)

 

It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.

- Deuteronomy 31:8

When our oldest started kindergarten in August, there were lots of new things we had to decide. What would we pack in his lunch? What time would we wake him up every day? Who would be responsible for taking him to school? And finally, how would we drop him off?

You see, at Andrew’s school, there are two viable ways for parents to drop off their kids (*technically* you could also find a spot in the school parking lot, but only in the same way you could *technically* find a winning lottery ticket on the ground.) Option #1 is to go through the drop-off lane, where cars line up and, directed by teachers acting as traffic cops, crawl toward the front of the school. When they get to the front, their kid leaps out the passenger door and, usually after a halfhearted wave to their parent, makes their way to class. Option #2 is for parents to park in the neighborhood across the street and, aided by the crossing guard, walk their child to school.

On the second day of the semester, we asked Andrew what he wanted to do. Still intimidated by all the changes kindergarten was bringing, he quickly said he wanted us to walk him to school—he wasn’t ready to walk to the front door on his own. In the ensuing weeks and months, he’s obviously gotten more used to the whole routine, and any nervousness has long since dissipated. Nevertheless, despite our asking multiple times if he’d rather us join the drop-off lane, he’s consistently declined. He’s no longer afraid of the walk, but he still doesn’t want to do it alone.

There’s something there worth considering for the life of faith, often described in Scripture as our “walk.” In a world where individualism is extolled, where dependence is seen as weakness, where we care more about superstars who do it all than about teamwork, there can be a temptation to think that life in Christ is a solitary affair. It’s my decision to accept the calling of the Holy Spirit and follow Jesus; it’s my relationship with the Lord; it’s my life.

But while there is something to be said for the idea of a personal relationship with God, nowhere does Scripture call us to a lonely one. When we read the Bible, we are reminded that we are surrounded by “a great cloud of witnesses,” brothers and sisters who have gone before us and whom we will meet in glory. When we gather as a local church, we do so as a recognition that discipleship, worship, and fellowship are communal acts, not solitary ones. And most of all, we are comforted and encouraged by the presence of the Holy Spirit and the promise of the Lord: he is “with us always, even to the end of the age.”

Jesus does not call us to be lone rangers living lives of quiet desperation. God has given us everything we need—his Word, his Spirit, and his church—so that we will be prepared for our walk of faith and to help our brothers and sisters in theirs. So when you’re feeling overwhelmed, unequipped, and uninspired, take a page out of my son’s book: don’t walk alone.

One Way (Friday Devotional)

 

What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you? But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says, “God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble.” Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.

- James 4:1, 6-7

Almost every time I leave or return home, I use the alleyway that runs behind my house. Like most such alleys, this one has only one narrow lane, so drivers have to proceed slowly and be mindful of other cars. There is no designated direction you are ‘supposed’ to go; everybody just minds their P’s and Q’s.

Nevertheless, I have a confession to make. Every time I am going down the alley toward the main road—just a couple hundred feet, since our house is the fourth from the corner—and another car pulls into the alley from that road, I feel the stirrings of road rage. Why can’t they just turn onto the street instead of using the alley?! Why are they going that direction?! Why should I have to be the one to pull into a driveway and give them room to proceed—don’t they know this is my alley?!?

That’s how sin tends to bloom—it starts with a sense of entitlement about things you objectively know aren’t yours. Since the day Adam and Eve partook of the one thing God forbid them to touch, human beings have been shouting, “Mine!” about things to which we have no claim. Driven by a mixture of self-importance, pride, and greed, we lash out at our neighbors in the name of rights—rights which, oftentimes, are more imagined than actual.

The prescription for entitlement, according to the Bible, is grace. Just as God showed us favor we did not deserve in sending Jesus to die on the cross for our sins, the Holy Spirit gives us the grace to respond to indignities with forgiveness when our flesh demands retribution. While we are born into this world with a spirit of pride, Christ calls us to a God-given spirit of humility. Once in bondage to sin, faith in the Lord gives us deliverance from evil, freedom to a new way of life.

You’re never going to enjoy not getting your way—but in Christ, you start to see that your way is not the only way. For when the entitlement of the flesh is exchanged for the humility of the Spirit, His way is the only one that really matters.

It Means Something (Friday Devotional)

 

Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.

- 1 John 3:18

The author and professor Dallas Willard tells the story of a man who lost his composure and cursed in the presence of his pastor. After an embarrassed silence, the man looked sheepishly at the pastor and said, “Oh, it’s all right, pastor. I cuss a little and you pray a little, but neither one of us means anything by it.”

Hypocrisy—it’s one of the most common sins, and one of the deadliest to a believer’s witness. Those who do not know Christ nevertheless know about him; they’ve heard the stories of his grace and his love, and they recognize when one of his followers is falling short of those virtues. People can tell when, despite your professions of faith, it looks like you don’t mean anything by it.

It is with your mouth that you confess Jesus is Lord, but it is with your actions that you show the world you mean it. So in Jesus’ name, may you love not only with your words but with your works.

On Top of the World (Friday Devotional)

 

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

- Isaiah 55:8-9

Last weekend, my family and a few friends made our first pilgrimage of 2022 to the State Fair of Texas. We got our Fletcher’s corny dogs, we took our obligatory selfies in front of Big Tex, and we checked out a few cool trucks (a new Ford Maverick for me, a monster truck for the kids.) But the highlight was something none of us had ever experienced before: a ride on the Texas Star.

For the uninitiated, the Texas Star is a giant blue Ferris wheel that towers more than 200 feet over Fair Park. Every October, hundreds of fair visitors hop into its cramped gondolas for a couple of cycles. What they are treated to is a drastically different view of Fair Park than the one they have on the ground—from the top of the Texas Star, you can see everything.

Scripture tells us that our perspective is as different from God’s as the view from the ground is to the top of the Texas Star. We like to think we know everything, that nothing is beyond our ability to comprehend. Our pride compels us to believe no mystery of the universe is unsolvable. But the truth is that the almighty God, who was and is and is to come, is on a completely different level than we mere mortals. His thoughts are not our thoughts, says the prophet, and neither are his ways our ways. Where we are limited, God is omnipotent.

Part of the work of humility is recognizing that all we have to work with is a ground-level view of life. For more than that, we must look to the one who can see everything.

September Reading Log

   

A poem to start this month's log:

I like books,
as I remember
Here's what I read
In September.

Reading Through the Fantastic Four- #401-416, #1-13 (vol. 2)

Not with a bang, but with a whimper, Fantastic Four ended its first unbroken run of issues at 416, having resolved virtually none of the dangling plot threads Tom DeFalco and Paul Ryan had spent the previous years weaving. Turns out that, with the speculation bubble of 1990s comics suddenly about to burst, Marvel had gotten an offer too good to refuse. For one year they turned over full creative control of most of their major characters—basically everyone but Spider-Man and the X-Men—to the likes of Jim Lee, Rob Liefeld, and their studios, trusting the men who had become stars at Marvel a few years earlier to make their characters relevant again.

The first few issues of the new Fantastic Four, plotted and initially illustrated by Lee with scripting by Brandon Choi, live up to the promise of the year's initiative, titled "Heroes Reborn." Under Lee's creative vision, the FF are reimagined as a younger, more modern family. Their core adversaries—Doctor Doom, Mole Man, Namor—are introduced immediately, and the cosmic threat of Galactus looms in the background. Lee's pencils are sharp and stylized, reminiscent of the work he'd done on X-Men just a few years earlier.

But by the year's midpoint, the book loses steam, and it seems the creators have already mentally moved on to other things. Lee stops doing the art, then the plotting, and by the end is gone altogether. The book is overwhelmed by guest stars in what's supposed to be a brand new universe. The final issue barely even features the titular characters, as Marvel hurriedly tries to explain how the characters will return to the core Marvel Universe.

The 29 issues I read this month are basically the epitome of late-90's comics: sensationalistic, overproduced, messy, and creatively empty. There's potential there, enough to keep you entertained. But it's far from essential reading. If you find these issues in a quarter bin at a garage sale, go for it: that's about what they're worth. Otherwise, don't bother.

SMART CHURCH FINANCES: A PASTOR'S GUIDE TO BUDGETS, SPREADSHEETS, AND OTHER THINGS YOU DIDN'T LEARN IN SEMINARY by George M. Hillman, Jr. and John Reece

BUDGETING FOR A HEALTHY CHURCH: ALIGNING FINANCES WITH BIBLICAL PRIORITIES by Jamie Dunlop

Two books about church budgeting. Woohoo!

The first, Smart Church Finances, was the kind of snoozer I expected. Lots of business principles applied to a church context, lots of generalities, and not a ton of useful information for a church my size. It seemed more suited to a church plant than an established church setting, with lots of basics about setting up new budgets, squaring things with the IRS, etc. Useful for someone, but not for me.

Budgeting for a Healthy Church, on the other hand, was a surprisingly insightful and effective primer on church budgeting, offering a good mix of finance tips and theological background. Its main point was that your budget reflects your faith, and that it tells your church's story, and the book did an excellent job conveying that point from a number of different angles. Upon finishing it, I immediately loaned it to this year's budget chairman so he and I could get on the same page.

Look, books about church finances are never going to be page turners. But if you have to pick on, Budgeting for a Healthy Church is the one I'd recommend.

THE BRIDGE: THE LIFE AND RISE OF BARACK OBAMA by David Remnick

Nearly 14 years after his election as President of the United States, it's difficult to remember how swift, shocking, and historic Barack Obama's rise to power was. For virtually everyone in the country outside Chicago, Obama was totally unknown until his rousing keynote speech a the 2004 Democratic National Convention. Four years later, he was our first African-American president-elect. The work done by everyone from Martin Luther King, Jr. and Fannie Lou Hamer to Barbara Jordan and Jesse Jackson culminated, at least to some degree, in Barack Obama's election to the highest office in the land.

With both terms of the Obama presidency now in the rearview mirror, the rosy picture of a post-racial America that some believed 2008 signaled feels hopelessly naïve. But while the results of the Obama presidency, particularly regarding race relations, are complicated, the man's biography remains a compelling story. And David Remnick's The Bridge, which gives Obama's biography from birth through the 2008 Election Night, is one of the best accounts of that story I've read yet.

It should be noted that Remnick's biography is both sympathetic to Obama personally and uninterested in his policy goals. Remnick, the editor-in-chief of The New Yorker magazine, is an unabashed liberal and a great admirer of Obama. While not completely uncritical, this biography is a hero narrative, not a piece of investigative journalism. But, at least based on my reading of the book, Remnick's admiration is not a partisan one; he spends no time advocating for Obama's policies. While there is an implied understanding that Obama is pursuing the "right" things for America, this book is hardly a Democratic manifesto.

The book's biggest strength winds up being its biggest flaw too: published in 2010, The Bridge is a work of journalism, not history. The upside to this is that, particularly when chronicling the 2008 campaign, Remnick provides a detailed blow-by-blow of what happened, with plenty of compelling anecdotes and juicy quotes. The downside is that the book lacks perspective, particularly in its central conceit that Obama serves as a bridge from the Civil Rights era to a brighter day in America. Had this book been written in 2020 instead of 2010, I have to think Remnick would have steered clear of that narrative.

Nevetheless, The Bridge is a well-written biography that hits the usual beats of the Obama story while filling in gaps that others left out. For those wanting to know more about the 44th president's meteoric rise, this is a great source.

THE DA VINCI CODE by Dan Brown

Having read Angels & Demons last month, it was time to turn to its controversial sequel, the subject of a middling Tom Hanks movie, hours of cable news coverage, and thousands of reactionary Bible studies. And, with all the hubbub now years in the past, I can confirm that The Da Vinci Code is just as ok-not-amazing as the first time I read it.

As with all the Robert Langdon books, this one finds Dan Brown's protagonist thrust into an international conspiracy merging the art world, ancient history, and the church. At the heart of the story is a quest for the Holy Grail, revealed to be not a chalice, but the descendant of Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene. Hot on Langdon's trail is a menacing albino priest, a member of a self-mortifying hyper-religious sect of the Catholic Church.

The book is predictably blasphemous given that premise, but so obviously fictional—it plays veeeeery fast and loose with the biblical and historical facts—that I was unbothered by the central controversy. After all, why should we expect a secular author to be reverent about Christian doctrine?

As for the book's quality, it's about what you'd expect from a grocery store thriller—short chapters, cardboard characters, and a breakneck pace that keeps you turning the pages. I did find the plot more compelling than Angels & Demons, but the formula was essentially unchanged. I've still got two more Langdon books to go—next up is The Lost Symbol, then Inferno—so check in soon to see if Dan Brown widens his scope a little!

ESSENTIAL PUNISHER VOL. 1 by Various

Ok, let's get this out of the way: on principle, I don't like the Punisher. A guy who roams the streets of New York with an arsenal of weapons killing criminals is not a superhero, he's a serial killer. There's a reason alt-right wackos have adopted the Punisher skull as a logo.

But he exists, he's got 4 Essentials, so let's do this.

The Punisher is Frank Castle, a Vietnam war vet who returned home only to have his family murdered right in front of him in a mafia hit. Grief-stricken and enraged, Castle vowed to use the rest of his life to hunt down and "punish" (a.k.a. kill) criminals. Basically, he's Batman without the no-killing rule or any hint of campiness.

Volume 1 covers a string of guest appearances in various Spider-Man and Daredevil comics, concluding with his first 5-issue miniseries. It's interesting to watch the character evolve over that time from a fairly standard street-level supervillain to the Dirty-Harry-meets-Rambo action-noir antihero we now think of him as. Also interesting is how Marvel's willingness to show Punisher's lethality changes from his initial appearance in 1978, where he never actually fires a gun, to his 1974 miniseries, where kill shots are shown with abandon.

The highlight is undoubtedly Punisher's two-issue guest appearance in Daredevil, which comes smack dab in the middle of Frank Miller's legendary run on the title. Miller's noir-inflected art and writing style is a perfect match for Punisher, and the character would borrow that tone liberally moving forward. I hope to see more team-ups between the two characters moving forward.

All in all, this introduction to the character is a mixed bag, but an intriguing start for a character often accused of being one-note. I'll be interested to see in volume 2 how Punisher does in an ongoing title.

Consider the Lobster (Friday Devotional)

 

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”

- Matthew 7:24-27

If you were to go to a fine dining establishment, there are any number of items you could order which would qualify as a status symbol, from Peking duck to a tomahawk steak. But few have the worldwide prestige of lobster, that staple of fancy restaurants from Maine to Venice. The moment you order lobster as your main course, you send an undeniable message that you’re a person of wealth and taste.

But until the 1800s, lobster was considered a low-class food eaten only by the poor and institutionalized. In fact, the New England colonies had laws on the books forbidding the feeding of lobster to inmates more than once a week, considering it cruel and unusual punishment. Because lobster was so plentiful in the region and so easy to preserve, its reputation was akin to today’s pinto beans—tasty, sure, but hardly impressive.

This change in fortunes for America’s favorite crustacean speaks to a truth to which both Scripture and history testify: the world is changing all the time, whether we notice it or not. What is fashionable today may be outdated tomorrow; what is unseemly today could be common practice in 5 years. Conventional wisdom, popular culture, and best practices are no more permanent than last year’s fashion tips.

That’s why it’s so crucial for believers in Christ to build their lives on his teachings instead of the world’s, on the Word of God instead of the philosophies of man. While today’s teachers can offer maxims for the moment, only the Lord offers the insights of eternity. It is the gospel of Jesus Christ that remains good news even when today’s headlines become yesterday’s news.

You never know what parts of today’s world will look unfathomable in just a few generations—so in the famous words of the late author David Foster Wallace, consider the lobster. And in doing so, build your life on the solid rock instead of on shifting sand.