All the Stories (Friday Devotional)

 

Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and shield. Our heart is glad in him because we trust in his holy name. Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you.

- Psalm 33:20-22

A few days ago, I was reading to my daughter from her favorite book, a collection of short stories featuring the popular PBS Kids character Daniel Tiger. I initially flipped to a story about Daniel’s first day of school and asked Katherine if she wanted me to read it. “No, Daddy,” she replied. “That’s a scary one.” Sure enough, the story deals with Daniel’s anxiety about his parents leaving him for the day.

Then I turned to a different story, one where Daniel plays with a new friend who has a disability. “How about this one?” I asked. “No, Daddy,” said Katherine, shaking her head. “That’s a sad one.” Indeed, the page I was on showed Daniel’s discomfort when his parents explained that his friend couldn’t walk like he could.

Finally, I turned to a story where Daniel and his family go see a fireworks show. “That’s it!” said Katherine, smiling. “I like this one! This is a happy one!”

If we could choose our life’s journey the way we choose stories, we would probably do it exactly like my three-year-old daughter. We’d avoid the sad parts, we’d skip over the scary parts, and we’d settle in comfortably for the happy parts. No tragedies, no trials—nothing but triumphs.

But of course, life doesn’t work that way. In our fallen world, sometimes the bad and the ugly are just as present as the good and the beautiful. In fact, sometimes we see so much darkness that it feels like light is never going to break through.

In those times, faith in God provides a hope and a comfort that earthly means can’t muster. You can look for an escape in entertainment or vice, but eventually you’ll have to come up for air and life’s cold, cruel realities will still be waiting for you. You can plan and work toward solutions to the world’s problems—and you should!—but even the best ideas and the strongest efforts can’t fix everything.

When you feel like you’re falling apart, faith’s humble response is to trust the one who made you in the first place to put you back together again. Lean on the one who sent his Son to do what you never could—rescue, redeem, reconcile, and resurrect. In a world wracked with confusion, he is the way. In a world led astray by lies, he is the truth. In a world dominated by death, he is the life.

We don’t get to skip the sad or the scary stories; we have to live through them. But if you know the author of salvation, you can persevere through them with the hope that earth has no sorrow that heaven can’t heal.

Faith in the Fetal Position (Friday Devotional)

 

Rejoice in hope; be patient in affliction; persevere in prayer.

- Romans 12:12

Like people, all animals have certain defense mechanisms they employ when they feel threatened. Predators are likely to lash out with their teeth and claws, using their superior strength to engage in a fight they’re sure to win. Animals blessed with great speed are more likely to fly or run away, outpacing whatever is frightening them.

But for a few special animals, neither fight nor flight is the answer—they stay right where they are and simply shut out the world. There’s the snail and the turtle, which retreat into the shells they carry around on their backs. There’s the possum, which enters a state of defensive thanatosis, more popularly known as ‘playing dead.’ And of course, there’s the armadillo, which curls into a tight ball, protected by the armor on its back. For all these animals, the response to danger is not to take on the challenge or escape it, but simply to retreat within yourself.

Sometimes humans share that quality, hoping problems will go away on their own instead of doing something about them. In hard times, we find ourselves praying that God will deliver us out of our difficulties, that if we shut our eyes tight enough and clamp our hands over our ears, he will make our problems vanish into thin air.

But one thing we see in the Bible is that the road to the promised land often comes through hard times, not around them. While God is more than capable of rescuing us every time we struggle, more frequently he redeems that struggle to bring about something beautiful. Just as there’s no empty tomb without a cross, sometimes we must endure before we enjoy.

Whatever the turtle, the possum, and the armadillo may think, shutting out the world is no solution to your problems. Instead, engage the world as a witness to God’s grace and glory: rejoice in hope, be patient in affliction, and persevere in prayer.

April Reading Log

Remember last month when my reading list was pitiful? Fixed that in April. Settle in, because it's a long one this month—8 books, from theology to pop culture and beyond!

PROVIDENCE by John Piper

God is sovereign over everything. He is the Creator and Sustainer of all things, and upholds them by the power of his perfect will. None is saved without being called by his Holy Spirit, and God knew before he laid the foundations of the world who those elect believers would be.

None of what I just said is up for debate in Christian circles. And yet, when the implications are taken to their logical extremities, God becomes a cosmic puppet master and our lives become nothing more than preordained plays in which every "choice" we make was predetermined billions of years ago by the God pulling the strings, including whether or not we would come to faith in Christ and be saved by the grace of God.

In Providence, John Piper lays out his case for why that extreme view of divine providence—the bedrock of Calvinism, a.k.a. Reformed theology—is not only morally acceptable, but inherently biblical. This is the project that, article by article and sermon by sermon and book by book, has been the work of Piper's entire life and ministry. As such, this capstone project is one of the finest works he has ever produced (and that's high praise since, as you may remember, I'm exactly not an unabashed fan of his writing).

For an Arminian like me—someone who believes that God's sovereignty must be held in tension with his love, and as such that he gives human beings free will—this book wasn't enough to make me stop singing "I Have Decided to Follow Jesus" and become a dyed-in-the-wool Calvinist. But he did effectively challenge a lot of my Arminian assumptions and force me to reckon with a LOT of Scripture about God's sovereignty and its implications.

The truth that this book reminded me of is that the path to salvation is a beautiful paradox: to be saved, the Lord must call us and we must answer the call; we are saved by grace through faith. Working out the mechanics of that is a puzzle we're never going to fully solve this side of eternity, but Piper's effort to do so in Providence is a worthy enterprise.

THE LOST SYMBOL by Dan Brown

Fun fact that's utterly irrelevant to my thoughts on this book: this was the first audiobook I ever listened to. Checked it out from the Waco public library my sophomore year of college and would listen to it when I was walking to and from class. If you're curious, this is the kind of book—fast-paced, easy to follow, not exactly a masterwork of prose—that works really well in that format.

The Lost Symbol is the third novel featuring Robert Langdon, the globe-trotting symbologist (note: not a real job) who's equal parts Indiana Jones and National Treasure's Nic Cage. Following the much-ballyhooed controversy of The Da Vinci Code, author Dan Brown veers away from religion in this book, leaning instead into the mysteries of the Freemasons for his hook.

I don't want to be too critical, because it's a perfectly fun romp; Brown has a Hollywood scriptwriter's feel for pacing and manages to end almost every chapter (and there are more than a hundred, some as short as two pages) with a cliffhanger. But with that being said, this is the book where you start to realize that the Langdon novels have a paint-by-numbers ingredients list: a murder at the book's outset, a zealot antagonist, a wise professorial friend, a female companion for some under-the-surface sexual tension, a mysterious organization shrouded in mystery, a series of riddles, and a weird sci-fi element that never quite pays off. Throw them all together, with Langdon at the center of the action, and you've got a 500+ page book.

This one is fine, though definitely weaker than Angels and Demons or The Da Vinci Code. Some days it was captivating, other days its predictability was a chore to plow through. But hey, if you're looking for a thriller with a thin veneer of Discovery Channel-style historical conspiracy to it, Dan Brown's your man. As beach reads go, this one will get the job done.

THE LIBRARY BOOK by Susan Orlean

On April 29, 1986, the Los Angeles Central Library caught fire, destroying more than 400,000 books before the blaze was extinguished. While an arson suspect was apprehended, the evidence was flimsy and he was never convicted. 

With that meager foundation, Susan Orlean tells the story of the fire, the Los Angeles library system, and public libraries in general. Addressing everything from the histories of legendary libraries like Alexandria's to the daily issue of welcoming the homeless without disturbing other patrons, Orlean hits seemingly every angle, with the 1989 fire as home base for every inquiry. A magazine writer by trade, Orlean does a masterful job moving from the specific to the general, offering broad historical overviews and individual character profiles all in the same book.

This book, ultimately, is a love letter to public libraries, an institution that is both dearly loved and completely taken for granted by almost everyone (current drummed-up controversies notwithstanding). For anyone who considers their library card a ticket to wonder, The Library Book is an absolute must-read. One of the finest books I've read in some time.

And no, I didn't check it out from the library. Some books are worth paying for.

THE NINETIES by Chuck Klosterman

Every decade has its own identity, its own vibe, its own legacy. In The Nineties, Chuck Klosterman seeks to mine the moments and memories of the 1990s to see how the things we thought then line up with what we think today.

His central point is that the Nineties were an in-between decade (much like the Seventies)—post-Cold War and pre-9/11, it was a time of peace and prosperity, when privileged young people looked inward and didn't always like what they saw. It was the decade when "selling out" was the worst crime imaginable, when cynicism was in and earnestness was out, when being cool was infinitely more important than being right.

From Nirvana to Zima to Bill Clinton, Klosterman surveys numerous corners of the pop culture landscape, and his insights are constantly competing with your own nostalgia as you read—I lost count of the number of times he'd reference something and I'd say, "oh yeeeeeah, I remember that!" But while the memories are half the fun, it's Klosterman's takes that keep you reading, his way of affirming some of the things we believed then while also poking holes where they're deserved.

Klosterman is a compelling thinker and writer, and following him through the decade is a trip worth taking, especially for Gen X'ers and older Millenials. If you're looking for an easy read about a time that feels way longer ago than it should, check out The Nineties.

KINGDOM COME by Mark Waid and Alex Ross

What would it look like if superheroes ran the world?

That's the basic pitch for Kingdom Come, the epochal 1996 miniseries from Mark Waid and Alex Ross, one that sought to recapture what made DC's traditional heroes special in an era where things were starting to go off the rails in the comics industry. Darker in tone than you'd expect from those two collaborators but ultimately triumphant, this is considered by many one of the finest DC stories of all time.

Kingdom Come is set in a near future where Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, and their comrades have retired, replaced by entitled upstart "heroes" who aren't living up to their predecessors' example. Coaxed out of retirement, Superman reestablishes the Justice League to set the world aright, only to be opposed by Batman and a hodgepodge of lesser heroes and supervillains who reject Superman's authority. As the battles escalate, it becomes clear that when things come to a head it will be cataclysmic—and that's ultimately what happens when Superman and Captain Marvel face off in a battle of mythic proportions.

As you may have gathered, the story between the lines is arguably more interesting than the story on the page. With Kingdom Come, Waid and Ross were presenting DC's heroes as gods walking among men, showing why they were relevant in a time when it wasn't clear if comics would still be around much longer. Ross' art is perfect for the task, just as it was in the thematically similar Marvels, and Waid is the ideal writer for this kind of story.

Still influential today, Kingdom Come is a classic DC story that reestablished the importance of the company's legacy characters. A must-read for any comics reader.

FANTASTIC FOUR: FULL CIRCLE by Alex Ross

This will be a short review. Alex Ross is a legendary artist, best known for his painterly style on Marvels, Kingdom Come, and more variant covers than you can possibly imagine. He is not renowned for his writing.

Well, in Fantastic Four: Full Circle, an original graphic novel, he does the writing and the art. And the art, instead of his familiar, distinctive style, is a more traditional look. So it's Alex Ross not doing what he does best, and on two different fronts. The result is a book that's not bad per se, but is certainly forgettable. My proof of that is that I'm writing this review 2 weeks after finishing the book and I have literally no recollection of the plot.

My advice? Find it in a comic shop, flip through it to see the pretty pictures, and then put it back on the shelf.

V FOR VENDETTA by Alan Moore and David Lloyd

Because Alan Moore wrote this series, an ongoing serial published in Warrior magazine from 1982 to 1985, it is often considered to be a work of genius. Its popular film adaptation in 2005 and the subsequent adoption of the Guy Fawkes mask by the hacker group Anonymous furthered the assumption that this book was important. The reality? It's an occasionally excellent but ultimately inconsistent narrative which the movie wisely deviated from at the end in the name of telling a complete story.

V for Vendetta tells the tale of Evey Hammond, a poor girl who encounters an anarchist revolutionary named V seeking to topple the 1984-style authoritarian government of a dystopian England. V, whose true identity is never fully revealed, has a dark past associated with the government's rise to power and is now seeking to burn it all down and allow the common people to start from scratch. Over the course of the story, Evey goes from a curious acquaintance to a true believer, even as V inches closer and closer to being captured by the investigators hot on his trail.

As with any story glorifying anarchism, V for Vendetta has at least a hint of satire at its core—it should surprise no one that the book was written during the Thatcher era—though it presents itself as a serious, even tragic tale. The point of the book, that governments should be afraid of their people and not the other way around, is far from subtle as you read, and V serves more as a cipher for the point than a well-rounded character.

Therein lies the problem with this book—it's a point with a story around it instead of a story making a point. Panel to panel, Alan Moore is the genius who would go on to write Watchmen, but when you zoom out, the book is missing the cohesive storytelling that made that book a masterpiece. A victim of its serialized format, V for Vendetta never quite hits its stride; every time a chapter gains some momentum it's time for a new character perspective.

This is a good graphic novel, but not a great one; it shows flashes of Moore's genius, but that genius is not yet fully realized. For comics historians, it's a necessary read—but if you just want to take in the story, watch the movie instead.

HUMAN TORCH: THE COMPLETE COLLECTION by Karl Kesel and Skottie Young

This 12-issue series is probably best remembered as the launching pad for artist Skottie Young, famous for his variant covers featuring superheroes as babies and his independent series I Hate Fairyland. There's good reason for that; he brings a cartoony dynamism capable of turning a C-list book into at least a B-list book. Indeed, it becomes apparent in this volume's final two issues, when veteran Howard Porter has to fill in for him, how much Marvel was relying on Young's talents to make this book sing.

That's not meant as an indictment of writer Karl Kesel, who delivers fun stories issue after issue with the same retro feel he offered in various Fantastic Four fill-in issues and backup stories. But his undeniable status as a utility player for Marvel matches the ambition of this book. Let's face it, a book like Human Torch is inherently limited, in much the same way that a Star Wars TV show or novel is, because nothing "important" is allowed to happen within its pages. Fun, inconsequential romps are fine, but all big character development is reserved for Fantastic Four.

So with that limitation in place, it's up to a young Skottie Young to shine. And while his talent still needed a little honing at this stage, he does bring an undeniable verve to the proceedings. The art in this book doesn't set the world on fire (pun intended), but it does elevate the book. If you're an FF fan, this book is far from essential reading, but Young's art makes it worth the ride.

Those Who Wait (Friday Devotional)

 

Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.

- Psalm 27:14

On Monday morning, I reported to the Frank Crowley Courts Building in Dallas for a long-delayed rite of passage into American adulthood: jury duty. I happened to post on Facebook about it that morning, and in the comments, several people thanked me for my service, for fulfilling my civic duty. Yet despite those grandiose terms, all I really wound up doing was wait, wait, wait. I waited in Dallas traffic to get where I was going. I waited in the security line outside the courthouse. And for two and a half hours, I waited in the central jury room, only to be dismissed without being called upon. My “service to democracy,” at least this time around, was to spend 4 hours of my morning waiting.

Part of the reason we sincerely refer to the inconveniences of jury duty—not to mention voting, volunteering, and more—as acts of sacrificial service is because of how much we despise waiting. We hate waiting at the DMV, we hate waiting at the doctor’s office, we hate waiting at the grocery store. Indeed, some people find even amusement parks—places literally designed for fun—to be joyless because of all the waiting they require. In a society where we can buy any product, answer any question, and contact any friend with the click of a button, few things seem as frustrating and unnecessary as being forced to wait.

How instructive and humbling then to be reminded in Scripture that sometimes—many times—we are required to wait for God. For all the areas of life where we are in control, all the places where we can bend things to our will and get what we want, we don’t get to determine God’s timing. We simply seek him humbly, pray to him earnestly—and wait.

Waiting for the Lord serves as a gentle reminder that it is God who is sovereign, not us. What we have is not ours, it’s simply what we’ve been entrusted with—God is the one who holds the world in his hands, not us. Waiting for the Lord, when done with patience instead of resentment, is an act of humility and faith.

Waiting, whether for an answer to prayer or for your name to be called in a jury room, is probably never going to be fun. But that doesn’t mean it’s useless—if you’ll approach it with a humble perspective, to wait is to learn.

Unexpected Aid (Friday Devotional)

Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

- Matthew 7:1-2

The other day, I ran into AutoZone to grab something, the kind of 2-minute errand where you’re trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. But on my way back to my car, I saw something that gave me pause.

In a nearby parking spot, a woman was hunched over the open hood of her car. Now, that’s pretty typical at AutoZone; I wouldn’t have stopped for that. What made we hesitate was the sight of an unkempt man, pretty clearly homeless, approaching her. Concerned he was going to bother her, I took a step forward to intervene.

But before I could say a word, the man asked her if she needed help. Initially startled, she told him she was trying to check her oil level but didn’t know how. So the man lifted the dipstick out of her hood, rubbed it on his jacket, and showed her exactly what she needed to know. Once he was satisfied that she understood, he shut the hood for her and continued on his way without another word.

This man—who I perceived as threatening because he was homeless—ended up being more of a helper to the woman than the pastor did.

When Jesus told the parable of the Good Samaritan, the primary lesson was about what it means to be a neighbor. But secondarily, that story was also a reminder not to make assumptions about who is “good” and who is not—to judge not, lest we be judged.

We know who we expect to be good neighbors—the people who look and think and believe like we do. These are the people we are most comfortable being around, the ones we go to first when we need help. But make no mistake: there are plenty of Good Samaritans—and, yes, good, unhoused people—among you too. Set your expectations aside and give them a chance to be your neighbor.

Climb the Tree (Friday Devotional)

 

Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord.

- Romans 12:11

When Texas Rangers scout Joe Marchese picked up a hitchhiker by the side of the road, he didn’t expect much from the kid—after all, if he was anybody special, what was he doing hitchhiking? But as the two talked, Marchese’s passenger revealed that he was a pitcher with hopes of making the big leagues someday. Prove it, Marchese told him. The kid sheepishly replied that he didn’t have a ball or glove.

Whipping the vehicle off the highway, Marchese pulled into a nearby orange grove. He hopped out of the car and scaled a tree, tossing down 30 oranges to the hitchhiker. Sitting on a tree branch, he yelled down, “Throw those at the tree so I can see your arm. We’ll see if you’re a pitcher!”

The world doesn’t have a lot of characters like Joe Marchese, people so devoted to their work and so unwilling to miss an opportunity that they’ll scamper up a tree on a hope and a prayer. But if we’re faithful, the kingdom of God ought to have plenty.

Inspired by a gospel of hope and empowered by the Holy Spirit, believers in Jesus Christ are called to be zealous in our faith and excited to share it with others. Faith in the Lord isn’t merely a weekend hobby and church isn’t just a social obligation; rather, our relationship with the Lord is supposed to be something that transforms you from the inside out, overflowing into worship of God and love for others.

Like Zacchaeus scaling a sycamore—or Joe Marchese climbing an orange tree—you can show your determination for the Lord every day. Obstacles will be put in your way to try and prevent you from showing your faith. But when they come, look to the Lord for strength—if you’re willing to serve, he’ll give you the means!

Good Friday

 

On this day, we remember the crucifixion of Jesus Christ and reflect upon a solemn, profound truth: it is through his sacrifice on the cross that we are saved. It is the death of Jesus that gives us new life. By his wounds we are healed.

The longer you think about the suffering we put Jesus through, the harder it gets to call this a “Good Friday.” After all, this is the day we saw humanity at its worst. There is nothing good about the betrayal of Judas or the cowardice of Peter or the duplicity of the chief priests and teachers of the law. There is nothing good about the mob mentality that saw Jesus condemned or the cruel contempt that same multitude of mockers leveled at him. There is nothing good about the state-sanctioned torture Jesus was forced to endure—the whips striking his back, the nails hammered through his hands and feet, the thorns piercing his brow, the asphyxiation of his lungs as he hung on the cross. That terrible day 2,000 years ago put the depravity of humanity on full display; it showed in the starkest terms how far we’d fallen from Eden.

But if that Friday was the ultimate proof of our wickedness, it was also the purest revelation of God’s mercy. For Jesus to give himself up for suffering when he could have called down a legion of angels for rescue, for him to go like a lamb to the slaughter, for him to suffer and bleed and die—for him to do all of that, and all for a humanity that had rejected him outright, is an unfathomable testament to God’s love for us. The moment humanity was at its worst was the moment when Jesus came into his glory.

By the grace of God, Jesus turned an execution into a sacrifice and a humiliation into a victory. He transformed scorn and mockery—the placard declaring him “King of the Jews,” the thorny crown upon his head—into gospel truth. He redeemed a tool of torture, making his cross the instrument of our salvation. Jesus took the worst we had to offer and somehow made it new.

Were it not for Jesus, this would be a day of shame and guilt, a day we’d like desperately to forget. But because of his redemptive power, our sin gives way to his forgiveness and our deserved condemnation gives way to his grace. Left to our own devices, this would be a day of infamy. But because Jesus is Lord, this is Good Friday.