On Getting Out of Bed - A Review

Anyone who lives long enough will come to the day they aren’t sure if getting out of bed is worth it. Maybe it won’t be getting out of bed per se, but perhaps persisting in daily activity in the face of a difficult monotony.

Is it worth it to wash the dishes? Is it worth it to go to class? Maybe getting out to church isn’t really that important. Will anyone really miss me? Rather than face the endless list of tasks, sometimes it really feels like giving up is a better option.

Depression—whether the sort driven by temporary circumstances or true mental illness—comes for believers as often as non-believers. Sometimes Christians do not trust available resources to help themselves or others when the black dog of persistent sadness or anxiety sits on their chests.

There are, of course, some sharp divides among Christians about psychology and medical interventions for depression. Some, especially in the Nouthetic Counseling movement speak of psychological treatments as sinful. Other Christians do not raise any question about any psychological treatment whatsoever, accepting approaches to mental health that clearly contradict Scripture. We aren’t going to solve that debate here.

However, a common theme in discussions between those rival factions is the treatment of depression as if it is something “out there” and distinct from the person experiencing it. A different set of questions inhabits the mind of the individual wrestling with depression.

Alan Noble’s book, On Getting Out of Bed: The Burden and Gift of Living, is a phenomenal resource for those who struggle with depression. It is practical, not in the sense of providing seven steps to a better you, but in the sense it says the things that need to be said. It is both an encouragement to exist and an exhortation to persist in whatever activities one can manage.

Even our mere continued existence is a blessing to others in the midst of pain:

“Your existence is a testament, a living argument, an affirmation of creation itself. When you rise each day, that act is a faint but real echo of God’s ‘It is good.’ By living this life, you participate in God’s act of creation, asserting with your very existence that it is a good creation.”

The book provides a way to feel a sense of accomplishment in the mundane:

“When we act on [the goodness of creation] by rising out of bed, when we take that step to the block in radical defiance of suffering and our own anxiety and depression and hopelessness, with our heads held high, we honor God and His creation, and we testify to our family, to our neighbors, and to our friends of his goodness. This act is worship.”

And those stringing together those little “victories” by taking one step at a time is a witness to God’s faithfulness:

“Moments create momentum. When you choose to do the next thing, neither accepting nor denying the anxiety or depression you carry, you create the momentum that makes the next, next thing a bit easier to manage. And the converse is true. When you cannot do the next thing, everything becomes harder to manage.”

Noble reminds readers that neither our suffering nor even our disobedience can undermine God’s glorious plan of redemption, “because the ending is already written: you will overcome, Christ has redeemed and will glorify you, including your flawed and, in some cases, ill mind.”

One of the strong positives of Noble’s approach is that it takes the reality of anxiety and depression seriously, but it does not excuse people for ceasing to strive against it. The feelings are real, but the duty to care for your neighbor is also real. Therefore, it is a good thing to continue to do what you can. It is not ok to simply give up, even if you can’t do everything you could normally do. Having diminished capacity is no sin; not using the capacity you have for the glory of God is. Duty and grace are wound together.

This is a hopeful book. Noble reminds readers of the central purpose of our existence:

“In the end, the only reason to keep living is if you live before God for His glory. If His Word is true, then we were divinely created to glorify Him and enjoy Him always. And our creation was a fundamentally good act––good and prodigal. Neither earned nor necessary but a gracious gift. And when we live in gratitude, recognizing and delighting in this life, we honor God.”

On Getting Out of Bed is an encouraging book. It is the sort of book that Christians should read to better understand the struggles of others, but also to have a better theology of suffering and hope before their own day of struggle arises. It can be a help in a time of struggle, but the best treatments are often taken in advance. There is a persistent theme of hope throughout the book. The message is that the fight is hard but worth it.

This book, which is Noble’s third, is the best of them so far. The social commentary he offers in Disruptive Witness and You are Not Your Own is important. The practical hope he writes about in On Getting Out of Bed is the antidote to many of the malaises that modernity has afflicted us with.

In short, this is a book that Christians should be familiar with. Pastors should have extra copies to give away. It would be a good book to study in a small group from time to time. This will likely be the best and most useful new book I encounter this year.

For many, On Getting Out of Bed may make the difference between choosing to continue and not. That is a big claim, but I believe it to be true. I believe time will show my claim to be correct.

NOTE: I received a gratis, advanced reader copy of this volume from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review. Quotes were taken from that volume.

The Life We're Looking For - A Review

As we navigate modernity, sometimes it is hard to know what we are looking for. What is it that we are seeking?

Andy Crouch pursues that question in his recent book, The Life We’re Looking For: Reclaiming Relationship in a Technological World.

Crouch, who was a one-time editor-in-chief of Christianity Today, has dealt with the question of technology previously, particularly in his helpful Tech-Wise Family and alongside his daughter in My Tech-Wise Life.  The latest volume builds on the earlier research, but moves beyond it to consider more broadly what sort of culture, environment, and general shape of the world humans naturally seek.

The book begins by outlining many of the reasons why we are unsettled. Crouch notes loneliness, isolation, and a radical shift from the way of life that humanity has existed in for millennia. We have become largely anonymous. Ironically, in a world where there is very little privacy, we are truly known by very few people. One of the negative results of a great deal of technology has been the loss of dependence of people on one another. According to Crouch, we have traded in our personhood for power.

The list of ways that humans have acquired power includes the “magic” of technology, the use of money instead of relying on bartering and personal exchange, and artificial intelligence. The basic theme here is that humans have chosen technique and technology to substitute for what were, at one point, interactions that required direct human to human contact.

There are distinct advantages to much of technology. The human physical condition is, measured objectively, drastically improved from prior to the Industrial Revolution. However, amidst the cheers for technologies’ progress, we have become alienated from each other and from the world, at least to some degree. In many cases, the sense of alienation has taken generations to accumulate, but appears to be advancing rapidly in the last few decades, especially since the lightspeed changes of the computer revolution.

The end of Crouch’s book is  a plea to regain our sense of shared humanity, with an emphasis on some simple steps that can make the world more personal. This mostly has to do with recognizing that while technology may relieve a particular burden, it also often takes away opportunities and requires additional duties. Establishment of written language has, for example, greatly improved the ability to share stories, but it has also cause human memory patterns to change, so that our cultures no longer require us to learn, recall, and retell stories that have passed on to us by word of mouth. Now we have to write things down to remember them. There are unquestionable benefits, but significant losses, as well.

The crux of Crouch’s book is that Christians, especially, should be pursuing a deeper understanding of personhood. He notes the instance at the end of Paul’s letter to the Romans, where amidst the greetings from Timothy, Tertius the scribe, and Gaius the guy who hosts the church, there is a greeting from “our brother Quartus.” (Rom 16:23) He’s such a nobody that he was known as “the fourth,” as in the fourth son. No real name to speak of, not title. Just “our brother Quartus.” It’s easy to forget sometimes that Christianity came from such humble roots that a no name could be a someone in the middle of the church. That’s what Crouch calls the Christians back to in the midst of this modern age.

The Life We’re Looking For is a quick read. It’s easily digestible and the sort of text that would be good to put in the hands of someone overwhelmed by the weight of the world and attempts to navigate through it.

Crouch’s program of calling readers to consider the tradeoffs of technology is good, though I do think at points (as with the existence of money), he underestimates the benefit of having a basically universally acceptable medium of exchange—it does reduce the need for personal relationship, but it also ensures those on the lower end of the spectrum get access to markets and services. It may be that Crouch is overly negative to compensate for the positivity of many who see some of the advantages of technology. However, at the end of the day, Crouch makes readers think and really consider their positions well.

Assisted Suicide and the Ailments of Culture

Assisted suicide, or what is called “medical assistance in dying (MAID)” in Canada, is no new topic in our cultural. During my childhood, the name “Jack Kevorkian” became a byword and a punchline due to his advocacy for medical professionals helping their patients die instead of helping them live.

To those immersed in the flood of modernity with its emphasis on the radical autonomy of the individual, it is only logical that someone should be permitted or even encouraged to end their life in a clinical, sanitary manner. Why create a mess or a scene of horror for a loved one to find when you can end your existence with a slow wave of drowsiness wafting over you from the silent dripping of a potent fluid in a shapeless plastic bag?

Such an end is no more than what US Supreme Court Justice Kennedy argued for in the infamous Planned Parenthood v. Casey decision in 1992:

“At the heart of liberty is the right to define one's own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life.”

That philosophy was, until the recent Supreme Court decision, sufficient to permit the killing of a child in the womb. It is a reflection of an entire cultural ethos that echoes that famous hymn of hell: “I Did it My Way.”

A recent ad from Canadian retailer La Maison Simons, or Simons, presents assisted suicide as a heroic, beautiful, and self-fulfilling way to die. Were the subject not so macabre, it would be a lovely video to watch.

(Note that the ad, originally published on October 24, 2022, has been pulled by the retailer due to negative reaction.)

For the Christian, of course, life is sacred. Whether in the womb or in the last moments of natural life, there is goodness and beauty in life. David taught us this is Psalm 139:16 while speaking to God:

“Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.”

 So, for the believer in Christ, of course intentionally ending one’s life is sin. For those of us who recognize that God’s laws are universal, there is no question, then, that assisted suicide is a sign of a corrupt society.  

But how dare we argue against the non-Christian’s right to day at the hour of his choosing? Is this not an example of “forcing our religion” on others? Or, what if this is really a big problem that will create social injustices and it is simply because of our knowledge of the goodness of God that we are able to see its horror and where it will inevitably lead? 

It is not too hard to see right now that the assisted suicide train is running away on the tracks. In Canada, since 2016, there have been over 31,664 reported deaths through MAIDs with 10,000 of them in 2021. This amounts to approximately 3% of all deaths

The current debate in Canada is whether mental illnesses, like depression, should be considered a justifiable reason to request the state to terminate the requestor.  

In the discussion offered in the report to the Canadian Parliament, the authors seem to recognize how dangerous making this option available to  those suffering from mentally ill. However, they also seem to shrug, noting that the original language of the statute allows assisted suicide for “that illness, disease or disability or that state of decline causes them enduring physical or psychological suffering that is intolerable to them and that cannot be relieved under conditions that they consider acceptable.”  

This is “the right to define one's own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life.” It is the right to die. If you don’t like the conditions under which your pain can be alleviated, then you have the right for the state to kill you. 

It does not take much to see how this right to die can quickly become the easy way out. How it can become a convenient way to avoid the hassles of a system built to make more expensive treatments hard to get. It can be an option so that “inconvenient” people who rely on care and accommodation from others can be “conveniently” encouraged to ease the burdens of others. It takes little imagination how the “beauty,” as the Simons ad calls it, could be a way to end a period of sorrow or struggle that might have made the person or their neighbor a little better as a person. That convenience may remove a whole lot of beauty from the world. 

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.
-          John Donne

The Satisfaction of Good Stories

I recently took an entire week off work. It was mainly to finish my book for B&H Academic, tentatively called From Futility to Hope: A Theology for Creation Care. I also tried to unravel the knots of stress and encroaching burnout I was feeling from months of busy work, teaching Sunday School, trying to finish the book, with the only break since the New Year having been invested in the not-so-restful travel to the annual meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention.

To set the mood for what I hoped would be a creative and productive week of editing, I kicked the week off by reading a completely fluffy book: Lee Child’s first novel, Reacher: Killing Floor. It was a recommendation from a friend. It sounded interesting because I was looking for some relatively mindless reading that I could consume without too much effort.

Reacher met the mark. It was largely predictable and cliché. It was filled with the nearly-super hero who went to “the Point,” which is what Naval Academy graduates call their second choice. There were cultural inconsistencies, a really odd career timeline for Reacher (which Child acknowledges), and attractive women who were suddenly attracted to the rugged protagonist. Aside from the lack of sharks, the book is prime beach reading.

The story had few redeeming qualities, other than being quite engaging and thoroughly entertaining.

Sneaky Serious Content

The introduction, however, was a sneak attack on the person looking for brain candy. There are some nuggets worth considering that Childs tossed into his introduction, added fifteen years after the book was first published.

When mulling the genre of this novel, Childs assesses why his books were widely popular. It was because he was writing for the audience, but he wasn’t writing down to the audience, which results in cheesy, overdone fiction. Instead, he notes, “Along the way, I discovered I was the audience.” He quotes Chesterton on Dickens, “Dickens didn’t write what people wanted. Dickens wanted what people wanted.” Thus, he’s writing lowbrow fiction in exactly the fashion he would like to receive it.

There’s a secret there, I think. C. S. Lewis, in his essay, On Three Ways of Writing for Children, describes (1) writing down to children, (2) writing for particular children, and (3) “writing a children’s story because a children’s story is the best art-form for something you have to say.” Lewis affirms the second and participates in the third way of writing to children. The first he describes as being “generally a bad way,” which is pretty severe criticism in the vernacular of the British Isles.

Childs’ assessment is fair. It is obvious in Reacher that the writer is enjoying the little plot twists too coincidental to be believable, the overdone perfection of the main character’s ability and perceptions, and inevitability that the hero will ride off into the sunset to his next adventure.

The book—and I presume the series––rely on Reacher as the prime mover and only focus for the story. There isn’t so much a plot as performance art by the ex-Army MP. Childs admits that storyline and plot are secondary elements for his writing: “Character is king. . . . So, my lead character to carry the whole weight.” And he does.

A Western Connection

The result is a fairy story for adult males. Childs claims to have modeled it after stories of knights errant. I tend to agree with other readers who, as Childs notes, “classify the series as a set of modern-day Westerns.” Though he does not fully agree, he notes this Western-Reacher connection “is convincing in terms of feel and structure.” Childs claims not to be a fan of Westerns, but he has noted that “Westerns too have strong roots in the medieval knight-errant sagas.”

I read the introduction after I read the rest of the book—remember, I was trying to veg out. But I had already pegged this is a Louis L’Amour (Childs references Zane Grey) with more sex and more graphic descriptions of violence. Childs is on the right track here.

This is a knight-errant story. It is a modern Western. It is exactly what many readers want to read.

The Reacher Series has been successful because it provides a good guy––without doubt about his moral compass––who is trying to unself-consciously punch the big guy in the face and set wrongs to right. This is a book about a character who knows which way he is headed and won’t bend to polls or shifts in public opinion.

The Power of Stories

So many contemporary stories–-movies and books––fall short because, to quote Harry Flugelman from The Three Amigos, they “strayed from the formula, and [they] paid the price.”

This is why the recent sequel to Top Gun has had ridiculous box office success and staying power. Maverick is predictable, it is cliché, and it is thoroughly enjoyable. The same is true of Louis L’Amour and the Lee Childs novels.

What do the people want? They want someone to look up to who isn’t really just a villain in disguise. They want to be treated as if goodness, honesty, and self-confidence are admirable traits. They want the hero to win and the bad guy to lose, but not just on a technicality.

The fact that people want that—even people who think the metanarrative of Scripture is a new Facebook feature––is an indication of the eternity that is written on the hearts of all humans. (cf. Eccl 3:11) It can be a foothold for the gospel, if we are willing to tell the old, old story well.

That desire for wrong to be set right and for a hero who is a good guy can point straight to the greatest story ever told. I think that is what makes Reacher: Killing Floor such an engaging story. And that makes me question how we Christians are telling stories and telling the story.

Maybe telling the great story of Scripture is more powerful than reasoning people to Christ. And we may find it helps that our great hero story also happens to be true.

Walkable City - A Review

I have a theory—as yet nowhere near proved—that one of the most significant ways to combat poverty in the US would be to make it easier to walk or ride a bike.

If you look at a map of suburbia or even of development in small towns, it becomes clear that everything has been designed to maximize the convenience of cars. This reality obviously serves me well as I drive my car to and from my home, but it creates the situation that there is no truly safe way for me to get to the grocery store that is 1.5 miles from my house without taking a car. There is a decent shoulder on much of the road, but the last half mile or so is a four-lane road with a turn lane, but no shoulder and no sidewalk. There is a decent chance I could make it every time, but it can be a little nerve wracking given how fast some people drive in the 45-mile per hour stretch of road.

If you see someone walking in many places, the assumption is either that he is homeless or is having car trouble. This is a problem that makes everything more expensive, people less healthy, and life less enjoyable.

Jeff Speck’s book, Walkable City: How Downtown Can Save America, One Step at a Time is an argument for cities that have mixed-use areas and the ability to transit via foot-power to all the necessary resources. He argues that progress toward this end would be good for people, good for the planet, and good for communities.

Step By Step Walkability

Jane Jacobs cast a vision that is still shaping the goals of city planning in our day. Her book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities, set in motion a movement that has come to be accepted as generally correct. Urban centers are less crime-filled when there is activity at all hours, when the usage is mixed between residential, business, and light industry, when the sidewalks are wide and the blocks are short, and when people have to interact because they bump into one another more frequently. Speck points back to Jacobs’ vision as the appropriate starting point for his ideas about walkable cities.

There are ten key steps in Speck’s progress toward walkability:

“Step 1: Put Cars in Their Place” The idea is to allow car access, but not to build the world around autos. Walking needs to be the priority in dense areas, not the passage of cars. Too often, the order is reversed.

“Step 2: Mix the Uses” This is a basic city planning element that encourages walking by allowing apartments, bodegas, offices, and restaurants to mix within a general area. This will offer a reason for walking.

“Step 3: Get the Parking Right” Free parking makes the parking situation worse. Having lots and on-street parking that cost encourages people to value their parking decisions. If off-street parking is expensive and on-street parking is cheap, then parking and traffic will become a problem as people circle blocks or double park to get cheap parking. Making parking expensive often makes parking more available and solves a number of issues.

“Step 4: Let Transit Work” Speck is a fan of mass transit, especially into and through neighborhoods. He argues that it raises the value of the neighborhoods it serves. Though it often runs in the red on the city ledger it can often put the city in the black.

“Step 5: Protect the Pedestrian” People need to feel like they aren’t going to die if they are going to walk. Speck offers some suggestions that would seem to counter our instincts, but has evidence they work.

“Step 6: Welcome Bikes” Obviously, if you can walk, you can bike. He argues that measures that improve bikeability will make life better overall, especially for walkers.

“Step 7: Shape the Space” Speck’s research shows that large, open spaces tend to discourage walkers, so some creative structure and planning to right size walkways can encourage that behavior.

“Step 8: Plant Trees” The shade, the oxygen, and the pleasure of being around trees all encourage walking.

“Step 9: Make Friendly and Unique Faces” Various in facades, especially facades that have some life to them are good for walkability.

“Step 10: Pick Your Winners” Choose the sections of the city or town that will be walkable. It isn’t plausible to make the entire space perfect for the pedestrian, so a little triage is the way to make things work.

Conclusion and Analysis

Obviously, there is a lot more to the book than the summaries I offered for each of the steps to walkability. Even if you don’t come to full agreement with Speck on every point, there is a lot in this to think about.

One of the limitations of the book is that it is particularly focused on larger urban areas. Some of ideas, like having mass transit, may not be feasible on a smaller scale. However, there are aspects of design and planning that could be worth considering even in less populated areas.

Speck’s approach is refreshing because it is balanced and realistic. He recognizes that taking a purist approach to city planning is bound to lead to failure. He also understands that many plans take decades to implement. This is not a book about fixing everything right away, but about setting in motion a change in expectation that will allow conditions to improve in the future.

This is an interesting book to consider as a conservative that values community and livability for the world. It is a book that provides helpful insights into design and planning that could make the world greener. It is also a book that demonstrates how poverty could be mitigated to some degree by making some areas of cities and towns more livable and walkable.

You're Only Human - A Review

Billions of advertising dollars are spent each year to tell us which products can help us break through our own limits or the limits of human existence. They tell us that we can be all things at all times. The world is open to us with unending possibilities.

It is a powerful message. When we see the ads it seems empowering, because we all want to feel like heroes––like superhumans––as if there is no end to what we can do.

But what if it’s all a lie? What if we are really limited as human beings and as individuals with specific gifts, responsibilities, and experiences? What if the result of trying to live as if all boundaries are fake, all limits are self-imposed, and all desires for more are good is not a good thing? What if wanting to be more than what we were created to be is not a secret to a fulfilled, happy life but the recipe for a life of constant angst and stress?

Kelly Kapic explains the goodness of the limits that God has designed into our humanity in his book, You’re Only Human. This is a theologically rich and pastoral book that can serve people in every stage of life. This is a book for the pastor trying to do it all. It’s a book for the teen heading out to take over the world. It’s a book for the middle-aged church member lamenting the things they didn’t accomplish in their life and wishing that so many windows had not already closed.

The epigram at the beginning of the first chapter sums up the book: “Many of us fail to understand that our limitations are a gift from God, and therefore good. This produces in us the burden of trying to be something we are not and cannot be.”

Kapic is right. We are all tired as a result of our unnecessary burden.

Summary

The book is divided into two basically even parts. Part One has five chapters and wrestles with the fact that we have each been given by God a particular location, situation, and calling as well as limits that are unique to us. He shows how the gospel changes us and sets us free from sin, but it does not make us superhuman. He reflects on the goodness of the limited body, the importance of physical touch––an important reminder in light of our recent isolation––and the ways that our identify is formed by our community, not just by an act of the will.

Part Two also has five chapters that explore the nature of a healthy dependence. All five chapters help remind readers that God put us in community for a reason and that we were not meant to be self-contained dynamos for everything that God desires to do in this world. He explores the way that humility is sometimes misunderstood as simply being willing to admit mistakes, showing that humility also means acknowledging our own inability to know or do everything. Kapic outlines the way our time-driven world increases our anxiety and saps us from the joy of now-absorbed existence. We are always late or waiting for something, it seems. This section also delves into reasons God may have for taking time to perfect us and grow us, rather than just zapping us to holiness. Kapic also explains why being part of the church (and not having to do everything within the church) is very important. The book concludes with a chapter on learning to live within our finitude, which is, in part, a reminder of our need to rest.

Discussion

The “always on” nature of our world is inhumane. Kapic recognizes this and he is hoping to help you recognize it, too. Historians like to point out that there is no era that is totally unlike others. They are certainly correct. Political polarizations, violence, abusive systems, and weird and ungodly social fads have existed throughout history. Each age may have its own favorite perversion, but there really is nothing new under the sun. And yet, we all have the sense that we are in a video game with tense music and someone turned the difficulty level to expert. I think that is because we really are trying to do too much that is too hard. That reality helps explain why You’re Only Human is so powerful.

Many people are struggling from burnout. Every moment of a child’s life is often filled with some sort of stimulus: television, playdates, school, quality time with the family. There is no time to sit and be bored. It’s a joke among middle aged parents to say that life is really just saying “maybe next week things will slow down” until you die. This sort of grim humor reveals the truth that we are all tired and stretched thin.

This is bad for us and it is not a good way to grow in godliness. Sanctification takes time. It can’t be programmed into a 20-minute morning blog of prayer and Bible reading, the verse of the day calendar, with a sermon playing during the commute home. Boredom is an important ingredient to sanctification, because it allows us to stop focusing on the things we have to do, or trying to get sufficiently recovered to chase our next challenge, and really consider what it makes to be holy. The problem is we never get bored.

You’re Only Human is a gentle reminder who we are. It is an encouragement that we are not enough for everything, and that is ok. It is a helpful book that points readers toward real solutions. They may be challenging to implement, but they may change the way we live as Christians in the world in a meaningful way.

This book would be a great gift to pastors during the month of October to let them know that it is okay not to be able to do everything. This book would be a powerful help to a recent graduate who is anxious about what is to come and worried about not being enough to rise to the top. This a book that is a balm to the aging saint who realizes what they didn’t do in life and wonders if what they accomplished is really enough. Take up this book and read it. It is good for what ails us in this over-scheduled century.

The Lynn White Thesis and American Christianity

Lynn Townsend White, Jr’s essay, “The Historical Roots of Our Ecological Crisis” is the essay that launched a thousand ships in the study of religious environmentalism. That essay, originally delivered as a conference talk and popularized because of its publication in Science magazine, has been a touchstone of discussions of the connection between Christianity and environmentalism in in the more than fifty years since it has been published.

The problem with the essay is that it is largely wrong.

White’s basic argument is that Western Christianity devalues creation, promoting a dualistic framework that treats the physical world as merely existing for human benefit. White puts the blame on Christianity for de-paganizing the world because, he argues, Christian missionaries chopped down the sacred groves, taught the barbarians that there was one true God in spirit form, and that the Nyads and Dryads of their mythologies were false gods. The solution, according to White, is to adapt a more pagan conception of reality, viewing the world as sacred and adapting Christianity to a more nature-centric worship.

This thesis should have been debunked simply because it relies on a basic misunderstanding of Christianity. While theologians like Augustine do argue that there are differences between spiritual things and physical things, they do not indicate that on that basis physical things may be abused. There are certainly dualistic Christians who devalue creation and view it as solely existing for humanity’s benefit, however, their perspective in not consistent with Scripture. The solution is not to modify Christianity, but to present a robust theological orthodoxy that points dualistic Christians back to Scripture, back to the creeds, and back to the proper worship of the creator.

In the same year that White’s infamous essay was published, there was another volume that also should have undermined his thesis. Clarence Glacken published his seminal work, Traces on the Rhodian Shore, in 1967. In roughly 700 pages, he shows from ancient literature through roughly the present that the common human condition has been an anthropocentric view of nature. That is, the view that White ascribes to Christianity is prevalent throughout Western culture from the ancient philosophers through the current ones. While Glacken does not absolve Christianity from all guilt related to environmental abuse, he does demonstrate the White’s simply cause and solution are off base. Glacken’s main failure was publishing the anecdote to an essay in a tome. White’s thesis has more power because it is concise and blames the right out-group. Glacken’s work is devastating to that thesis, but is dense, carefully researched, and lengthy. Thus it is often footnoted, but much less likely to have been read and digested.

More recently, a more direct rebuttal of White’s thesis has been published. In 2016, historian Evan Berry’s book, Devoted to Nature, was released into the wild. He argues that, “American environmentalism is related to religion, not out of serendipitous resemblance but by way of historically demonstrable genealogical affinity with Christian theological tradition.” (2) Moreover, “Theologically rooted notions of salvation, redemption, and spiritual progress provided a context for Americans enthusiastic about the outdoors and established the horizons of possibility for the national environmental imagination.” (5)

This, of course, does not take us directly to “orthodox Christianity is great for the environment” because a large piece of Berry’s account is how the bones of American environmentalism align to progressive ideas with a significantly middle-class flavor. Therefore, there is a Christian tinge to much of American environmentalism that is, to paraphrase Rauschenbusch, about as orthodox as the interests of the environmental movement will allow.

Still, Berry’s book is helpful in that it exposes the reality that Christian per se is not the problem with the environmental movement. While the versions of Christianity that have been most active in preserving the environment are not always particularly Christian, there is hope that with some focused attention and proper hermeneutics, we can see a robust pro-environment theology that is consistently orthodox. At least, as an orthodox Christian who believes caring for the environment is important, I hope that is true.

For those struggling with the Lynn White thesis, Evan Berry’s book, Devoted to Nature provides a strong anecdote. It is a helpful entry into the history of environmentalism in the US. It carefully debunks some of the strongest anti-Christian tropes of the environmental movement. It also points readers toward a hopeful engagement with Christianity that may lead to them finding the gospel. This isn’t a book for everyone, but it is a particularly important book for those doing scholarship on religion and the environmental.

Attacking Justice in the Name of Justice

I was listening to one of John Piper’s biographical talks from the pastors’ conference that his ministry has put on for years and was struck by the way Piper described one of the most harmful means of attacking someone who is pursuing a cause that another dislikes. He describes it more fully in an aside in the actual audio [around the 44 minute point in the audio], but you can get the gist of it from the published text of the lecture.

Piper writes:

Probably the severest criticism he ever received was from a slavery-defending adversary named William Cobett, in August of 1823, who turned Wilberforce's commitment to abolition into a moral liability by claiming that Wilberforce pretended to care for slaves from Africa but cared nothing about the "wage slaves" – the wretched poor of England.

He then goes on to quote at length from the speech of William Cobett:

You seem to have a great affection for the fat and lazy and laughing and singing and dancing Negroes. . . . [But] Never have you done one single act in favor of the laborers of this country [a statement Cobett knew to be false]. . . . You make your appeal in Picadilly, London, amongst those who are wallowing in luxuries, proceeding from the labor of the people. You should have gone to the gravel-pits, and made your appeal to the wretched creatures with bits of sacks around their shoulders, and with hay-bands round their legs; you should have gone to the roadside, and made your appeal to the emaciated, half-dead things who are there cracking stones to make the roads as level as a die for the tax eaters to ride on. What an insult it is, and what an unfeeling, what a cold-blooded hypocrite must he be that can send it forth; what an insult to call upon people under the name of free British laborers; to appeal to them in behalf of Black slaves, when these free British laborers; these poor, mocked, degraded wretches, would be happy to lick the dishes and bowls, out of which the Black slaves have breakfasted, dined, or supped.

Of course, anyone who knows anything about Wilberforce knows that Cobett’s accusations are false. Wilberforce was a member of the Clapham Saints, who were known for their pro-social efforts throughout Britain. They supported protections for laborers, animal welfare, literacy programs for the poor, and many other forms of justice. Their most contentious work, however, was for the abolition of slavery and the slave trade, so it is this against which much of the criticism was leveraged.

 There is no question that Wilberforce was more invested in the abolition of the slave trade than in other causes. One person absolutely cannot be equally concerned with all forms of injustice. Those that try to be equally vocal about all injustice end up doing little to actually improve conditions. However, to be focused primarily on correcting one form of injustice leaves one open to all sorts of attacks, like the one that Cobett wages.

Do you care about the environment? Why do you not care equally for those dying without the gospel?

Do you care about racial reconciliation? Why have you not ended poverty in your own town?

Do you care about unjust economic systems? Why do you not care about those caught in unjust criminal justice system?

These are all a form of the tu quoque fallacy. When we read these sorts of pairings in typed letters, they look ridiculous. Where does the presumption come from that simply because good environmental stewardship is a concern that there is not also a deep love for the lost a desire to see people saved? It is possible that there is a lack on the one hand because of an overwhelming concern on the other. However, it is just as possible that someone sees certain ways in which they can uniquely contribute to the good of the world, while still supporting, caring about, and engaging in other goods.

 If you focus on everything, you can accomplish very little in this life. But if you focus on any sort of contentious action, then you will be open to being maligned in this way.

 Sometimes these criticisms land very strongly in the public mind, because it is readily apparent that the victim has not done everything he could have done for the cause in question. Therefore, the accusation is partially true—true in the sense that another concern may have been chief in the benefactor’s mind and efforts.

 These sorts of criticisms can also devastate those on the receiving end, because it undermines all of the good they intend to do. The reason why this sort of criticism is used is that it can dishearten those engaged in an effort for justice in a contentious sphere. If we are willing to listen, it can be devastating to see our hard work undermined by such half-truths. We ought not to let it be so.

 This talk was presented in February of 2002. It was a conference that had for a good portion of its meat a focus on racial reconciliation. Part of Piper’s emphasis was for pastors to continue in that work despite attacks of this sort.

 Several decades later, I can see this form of criticism being levied against men like Piper, Keller, and others. They have worked to create a sense of desire for justice in the world. And yet, they are often criticized for not caring enough about some other concern. The “Just Preach the Gospel” crowd does this an awful lot to men who have invested their lives into preaching the gospel and helping to show the gospel’s implications to the Christian life.

 The secular “Social Justice” crowd does this when we favor some causes—often those that align with a Christian view of the social order—but ignore or work contrary to them in others. It is impossible to post a pro-life argument in favor of ending elective abortion without hearing someone argue that real pro-life energy should include greater government control of the economy, the end of capital punishment, or whatever the other cause is. Most of the time it isn’t really that the person cares so much about the other thing, they just want to silence arguments against killing children in the womb.

 The secret to resisting the power of this form of criticism is to recognize that it is often levied as a means to guard some form of deep, self-interested sin. Cobett owned something like 1,300 slaves, so he was deeply interested in ending Wilberforce’s efficacy. When we hear criticisms like this levied against people, we should ask ourselves what self-interested sins are the critics seeking cover for as they publicly attack those pursuing justice in the world.

Some Recommended Introductions to Christian Ethics

Sometimes the variety and range of options of books makes it difficult to know where to begin in the study of any given topic. Whereas a few years ago we would have had to rely on the personal recommendations of a friend or acquaintance, and what was available in our local library or bookstore, now the entire catalog of human knowledge is, seemingly, open to us at all points. This is really great, if you have a starting place in mind or an existing framework from which to begin. For those simply trying to get a toehold in a new topic, the options can be paralyzing.

This post was written because I have had several people ask me what books I would recommend to begin the study of Christian ethics. The list is based on my own preferences and those that I would recommend to people who are reasonably well-read and who share at least some of my presuppositions about the nature of Scripture and the truthfulness of orthodox Christianity. In other words, I am going to make recommendations that are consistent with an orthodox, evangelical Christianity. There may be significant books on philosophical ethics, Roman Catholic ethics, or some sort of modernistic Christianity that others might see as invaluable. However, my point is to lead people deeper into the mystery of faith in Christ Jesus, not toward the apparent brilliance of writers in another faith. There are many books about particular topics within ethics that are useful, too. I have selected these as introductions, not endpoints.

Mere Christianity, by C. S. Lewis

This in not a textbook on Christian Ethics, per se. However, in his defense of a basic, orthodox Christianity, Lewis writes about ninety pages of his apologetic work—about a quarter of it—on what amounts to Christian Ethics. This is helpful, because it demonstrates the integration of Christian Ethics into the broader theological ideas of Christianity. The way we live is an apologetic and it is a demonstration of what we truly believe. For those new in the faith, Mere Christianity is an excellent place to start when trying to figure out how to live morally.

An Introduction to Biblical Ethics, by David W. Jones

Biblical Ethics is a subset of Christian Ethics, but this is the place that many evangelical Christians would do well to begin. Absent from the book are discussions of the categories of philosophical ethics, because the assumption behind this volume is that the reader believes Scripture to be trustworthy as a source of moral authority. This is a volume that teaches readers to reason well from Scripture to moral application. Jones writes with clarity and grace, with a fine balance between demonstrated research and transparency to make this useful for beginners who are primarily interested in how to read Scripture better. This is lean on particular application to current events, but long on methodology.

Invitation to Christian Ethics, by Ken Magnuson

This 2020 volume is a good, current survey of the field of Christian Ethics from an evangelical perspective. Magnuson introduces various philosophical and theological frameworks for moral reasoning, but the focus is on reasoning well from Scripture. This is a book that is helpful if a reader is trying to figure out why different systems of moral reasoning end up with different ideas. After laying out his basic framework, Magnuson then moves on to discuss various contemporary ethical issues, working through them from a scriptural foundation.

The Doctrine of the Christian Life, by John Frame

Frame’s book is a hefty volume, but it is a solid way to begin an ethical journey. I love John Frame’s approach and have been deeply influenced by it. However, his triperspectivalism is distinct from many other approaches and likely to be less common in future years. I have a deep attachment to DCL and all of Frame’s work, but his approach will retain popularity primarily among conservative Presbyterians in the years to come. At the same time, if a reader is looking for a different approach to complement their understanding of Christian Ethics, Frame provides a deeply theological, Scripture-saturated book written from a Reformed perspective.

Ethics as Worship, by Mark Liederbach and Evan Lenow

This book is a 2021 volume that combines some features that I really like. It is a full introduction to Christian Ethics textbook, with a survey of various philosophical approaches. It is primarily driven by Scripture as the source of morally authoritative guidance for our age. Ethics as Worship includes application to many of the major, contemporary moral issues. All of this puts it in the solidly introductory camp and makes it quite useful. In addition, Liederbach and Lenow also have an explicit focus of living the moral life as an act of worship. This is a subtext in most evangelical ethics texts, but this book makes it overt. I’ve read it once and enjoyed it. I need to read it and use it more to fully evaluate it, but it is a good, useful book that I commend for its faithfulness, readability, and doxological emphasis.

Reformed Ethics, by Herman Bavinck

Volume 2 just released a few months ago. I haven’t finished it. However, volume 1 is clearly a treasure and I anticipate that the final two volume will continue the legacy. Bavinck is one of my favorite theologians. He does ethics from a theological framework in the Reformed tradition. His approach will connect well to Jones, Frame, and, to a reasonable degree, with Liederbach and Lenow. Bavinck is not going to cover contemporary issues, since he wrote a century ago. However, what you see is non-performative reasoning from someone who was grappling with modernity, outside our specific culture, and dealing with the same source text—Scripture—that we are using. His application requires a little translation, but this is helpful. Bavinck’s Reformed Ethics are a good historical approach that can be used to encourage thoughtful application of orthodox theology and scriptural reasoning in our day.

Resurrection and Moral Order: An Outline for Evangelical Ethics, by Oliver O’Donovan

This is the last book on this list for a reason. It is a very difficult book to read, but it is also very important. O’Donovan’s work is essential for a full understanding of what it means to think morally as a gospel-focused, theologically orthodox believer. This is a book that demands slow reading and often repeated reading. It was not until the third time through the book that it made sense to me, but once it ‘clicked’ everything fell into place and it helped unlock a more complete process of moral reasoning through Scripture. This is the Brothers Karamazov of Christian ethics; it is very hard work, but it is very much worth the effort.

This is not an evaluation of all the ethics books on the market. There are certainly others that are good and helpful. This is where I think someone should start as they seek to understand Christian ethics better.

Living on the Edge - A Review

There is plenty that is not right in America right now. Political divisions are leading to violence and hatred among people with opposing views. The middle class is shrinking as more people move into upper tiers of income, leaving some members of society behind. Debates about race rage on, with insults hurled on every side, and little hope of resolution. There is a lack of respect for the struggling class and sometimes sheer hatred for those that have done better financially.

Sociologist Celine-Marie Pascale attempts to find the solution to these problems and present them in her book, Living on the Edge: When Hard Times Become a Way of Life.

There are several underlying premises in the book that shape her results. First, she believes that the economy is a fixed size, so that when some people have more it necessarily comes at the expense of those who have less. (xii) This, of course, sets the course for the necessary solution. The chief problem she finds is not access to economic on-ramps but distribution of resources. Second, that the existence of poverty “has not happened by accident,” but “It is the result of decades of collusion between business and government to maximize corporate profits at the expense of workers.” (x) As a result, as the author describes her project, “Ultimately, it is a book about power that has been leveraged by government and corporations at the expense of ordinary people.” (xi)

The book is a mix of quantitative analysis and personal interviews. It is to Pascale’s credit that she traveled to Appalachia and other economically disadvantaged areas to actually meet people and find out how they lived.  Along the way, Pascale uncovers a number of unfortunate structural problems in society. For example, as she notes, “in many communities it is impossible to hold a job if you don’t own a car.” (1) This, of course, puts those on the hairy edge of subsistence in constant jeopardy, because a deer crossing the road, a bad transmission, or a careless driver can jeopardize employment and financial stability. Pascale also attempts to discuss the issue of class prejudice, which is an often-neglected element in these discussions. But it is apparent to many on the bottom end of the economic latter that, whatever the rhetoric, the upper classes despise them. The book is to be commended for recognizing these challenges.

At the same time, Pascale’s attempt to make this a mix on anecdote and analysis ends up undermining her case and displaying her own prejudices against the people she is studying. A few examples:

To take a break from driving, I stop at a shop in a small town in Tennessee. The shop keeper greets me and proudly explains that her store belongs to God. ‘I just mind it for him,’ she says with a great smile. Before I could blink twice, we are in a conversation about faith and I am asking about her relationship to the Bible.

‘The Bible—start to finish—is the word of God.”

‘Old Testament and New?’

‘Yes, word for word.’

I’m a little unsettled by this, but not surprised.

Pascale—a Buddhist—then goes out of her way to ask highly speculative questions about the nature of a soul and then critiques the woman because “she seems less certain and her answers grow vague.” (64)

It’s not the account or making religion a part of the interview that is striking—that is certainly a part of good sociological research—but it is Pascale’s obvious bias. How does someone go into Appalachia with the intent to interview folks and not understand some of the basic beliefs of evangelical Christianity—for example, that the Bible is the word of God? And then to be willing to express that one is “unsettled” by this entirely ordinary belief? And then to follow this with an account of digging into a complex philosophical question about the soul to emphasize that the shop keeper was not was well educated in philosophy as the author seems odd. There is a patronizing tone to many of these anecdotes.

In another personal interjection into the analysis, Pascale records her observations while driving in the South, while driving near the site of several Civil War Battles, along the Blue-Gray Highway. She writes, “Although I don’t see mention of the battles, I count three Confederate flags on this stretch of road – fewer than I has expected. Even so, I find them unnerving. Carried today by white supremacists on their marches, the flag is an emblem of the Confederacy and feels like a warning.” (18)

In the context, this memory serves no purpose in advancing the author’s argument. It seems an honest reflection on her experience along her journey, but it also reflects why Pascale’s work does not result in truly helpful analysis along the methods she has chosen. One need not defend the flying of a Confederate flag to recognize that symbols may convey messages we may not understand and which may not be as nefarious as we would like to portray them. Pascale never explores that possibility or the social dynamics that might drive someone to rebel against the genteel classes by flying the Confederate battle flag considering race.

There are other examples that show Pascale is too disconnected from the people she seeks to help to be properly diagnostic, as when she gets into a tense, racial confrontation with a gas station attendant (who may have been its owner) because she does not understand how to pump her gasoline. (30-31) But toward the end of the confrontation, the man expressed distaste for Trump—his “white president” as she calls him—and frustration at the political class, so she expressed hope that she is “on his side of the fence now.” Unexplored in this account—and likely the really interesting question—is whether the man’s underlying frustration that led to a comment about the blackness of the “former Black president” was driven by poorly considered regulation by the Obama administration. Perhaps it was those regulations that cost the man a great deal of money by forcing him to get new pumps that were likely more complex and expensive than needed. The world will not know, because Pascale inserted herself into the story rather than doing the investigation.

Living on the Edge tackles a worthy topic. There are certainly a large number of people who are in economic strait jackets due to systemic injustices of various sorts. Pascale presents the conspiracy theory that “decades of collusion between business and government” have caused all of the problems of the poor. Her proposal is to expand government social programs, eliminate the Electoral College to increase the power of urban centers over Appalachia, and other proposals borrowed from the talking points from the populist Left. There is nothing innovative about her solutions.

The book ends where it began, which comes as little surprise to those that read the preface. There is little new ground covered—new stories, but very few new nuggets of thoughtful analysis—and mainly an attempt to embolden the already convinced.

Pascale concludes the book with the statement: “Regaining a democracy will mean ending the exploitation of the many by the few. With vision, effort, and some luck, it will be a win for the people of the country. It is past time that ‘liberty and justice for all’ actually means something.” (232)

To the reader who believes there is a significant problem with poverty and stagnation of classes, but who sees different solutions, this book offers very little helpful analysis. It’s hard to take someone seriously who claims to be speaking for a class of people who she so poorly understands and seems to respect so little.

Though Pascale tries to establish her poverty street cred with a brief story about her impoverished childhood (1-2), what comes through in this book is a naturalist trying to study a common species by stopping in their habitat to take a few notes, then rushing back to her office to slip the evidence back into the argument that had already been drawn up. This book reminds me of overhearing some well-dressed youngsters drinking Starbucks drinks discussing how “bougie” someone was for asking them not to break in line at the post office—there is a disconnect between reality and self-perception.

In the end, Pascale fails to explain how granting more centralized control to the entities that she claims are colluding against people helps the people being colluded against. She does not explain why removing political power from more rural states and concentrating it in densely populated areas—the areas that will be best served by concentrated government power—advances representative democracy and serves better the people she will effectively disempower. One may share Pascale’s concerns over “exploitation of the many by the few” and recognize that her solutions would simply make matters worse.

NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume with no expectation of a positive review.