The Wealth of Humans - A Review

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There is little question that economic structures and human participation in economy have shifted over time. With shifts from feudalism to mercantilism to forms of capitalism to the present blend of socialism and capitalism that exist in most democratic societies today the humans engaged in the economy have adapted to the changes or fallen by the wayside.

Consider, for example, the difference between the expectations for work in the mid-Twentieth century and today. People anticipated working for the same company for the majority of their careers not too long ago. Now, it is surprising when someone stays with one employer for the duration of their working years. The tenure of some employees at many corporations is measured in months instead of years and there is no promise of a pension, only an employer match in a 401K.

Discussions of work and vocation haven’t always kept up with the shift in working conditions, which makes Ryan Avent’s recent book, The Wealth of Humans: Work, Power, and Status in the Twenty-First Century, a helpful contribution to the discussion of work and economics. Avent is a senior editor and columnist for the left leaning magazine, The Economist. As such, some of his analysis supports ideas more at home in democratic socialism than in a more consistently free market economics; there are several occasions where Avent argues for Keynesian solutions to stagnation and increases in government spending on social benefits. However, overall, Avent’s analysis of the changing workplace in the Twenty-first century is helpful and adds to the literature in the field.

Summary

Avent surveys the topic in twelve chapters in addition to the introduction. The chapters are grouped into four parts with three chapters each.

In Part One, Avent surveys the shifting employment landscape. The rise of digital technologies have served to increase productivity, which has in turn created a glut of labor. This means that many low skilled workers find themselves either automated out of work or in a precarious situation. He continues by discussing the effect of automation: the glut of labor. Avent notes that although there is a real possibility of a short term disruptions in the workforce, either opportunities will open up, people will re-tool for new careers, or some mediating stasis of working hours and income will be attained. However, the potential for a significant societal disruption exists and could be significant if society fails to make preparations for the upcoming shifts. Avent predicts wage stagnation and income inequality; he also predicts that the lower economic strata will demand a different means of wealth distribution in light of their limited opportunities.

The second part outlines the changing realities in the digital economies. With the glut of labor on the market, there is little to push wages higher, which he predicts will increasing lead to calls for government solutions. He also notes that while labor is plentiful, the contemporary marketplace has increased the value of corporate culture over machinery and other traditional capital resources.

Part three discusses some of the shifts of the digital economy. He notes that there is an increase in income inequality among individuals, which he classifies as a sort of injustice. He also argues that on an international level, there have been some nations that are seemingly perpetual winners and some seemingly consigned to a permanent developing status. Avent then argues that the digital, demand based economy leaves economic systems at risk of self-perpetuating periods of low demand, such as has been witnessed in the slow-recovery after the recent Great Recession. His solution to this problem, consistent with his Keynsian presuppositions, is an increase in government spending and stacking on national debt. He does, however, recognize some of the ways government interventions have increased the recent economic turmoil.

The fourth part discusses the economic and political problems of the digital revolution. He discusses the increasingly popular solution for redistribution of a government facilitated Universal Basic Income. He argues that such a solution is unlikely to success in the longterm, and that work has value for enhancing a human sense of wellbeing. He rightly recognizes that the problems of income and economic inequality relate not simply to wealth, but also to social structures and attitudes. Economic contentedness depends as much on the definition of the good life as the actual income. He also notes that the economic conditions and growing instability and insecurity present and opportunity for both the radical left and right to provide populist solutions to problems; a reality that is being realized in the U.S. and in the U.K. among other nations. He concludes the section rather inconclusively with an expectation that some sort of seismic shift will occur, though he doesn’t know exactly what. Given the complexity of predicting the future, this is probably a fair way to end.

Analysis and Conclusion

Overall, Avent’s arguments and analysis are well thought out and nuanced. He avoids simplistic analysis and one size fits all solutions. Though he begins from a Keynsian foundation, he remains critical of certain typical aspects of that system. This is, overall, a well reasoned and informative book.

In particular, his recognition that work is not merely a way to put bread on the table, but a part of having human agency, of feeling valued, and of contributing to society is healthy. Where some who predict the coming disruption of the digital economy see Universal Basic Income as a silver bullet solution, Avent recognizes there are significant flaws in that as a final solution.

Whatever your preference for economic systems, Avent’s book is worth the time to read. He argues carefully, presents his case clearly, and acknowledges basic truths about human nature.

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

Christmas - It's Going to Be Alright

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It’s going to be alright.

That’s the message of Christmas.

It isn’t toys, tinsel, and turkey.

It’s going to be alright.

Whether it happened in December or not, God came down to earth and took on human flesh. He was born in poverty, worked with his hands, and lived a perfect life. He did this to repeal the curse laid on all creation due to Adam’s sin. He did this to reconcile all things to himself and restore all things on our behalf and for his own glory.

Used by CC License. Photo Credit: http://ow.ly/Docz307pVri

Used by CC License. Photo Credit: http://ow.ly/Docz307pVri

It’s going to be alright.

We take this celebration and make it about stuff. We ratchet up the anxiety by trying to make it perfect and make sure our house becomes paradise for our kids and our families for a day. We get together with people we rarely see and who we may not like. We make it about so much that isn’t the point.

It’s going to be alright.

God knew. He knew what Pontius Pilate would do to his son. He knew what would happen to Christians in Rome. He knew what we would do to one another, sometimes in his name. He knew what we would do even though we know it dishonors him. But he sent his son anyway.

It’s going to be alright.

Jesus knew that for a moment it would feel as if he were separated from the the Father and the Spirit. He knew that as the righteous wrath of God was poured out on him on our behalf that the earth would tremble and the sun would go dark. He knew that the world would stand on a knife’s edge of existence as he who knew no sin became sin so that we could become the righteousness of God.

It’s going to be alright.

Jesus knew that though he had paved the path for sinners to be redeemed, many would hear the gospel and ignore it. He knew that many would find the pearl of great price and yet not tell anyone about their joy. He knew that he was giving a mission to unworthy servants bound to fail him. He came. He died. He did it anyway.

It’s going to be alright.

He knew you. He knew me. Even in our mother’s wombs, he knit us together. It was for our sake that he was slain before the foundation of the world. He knew exactly what you need. His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness. He prepared good works in advance that we should walk in them.

It’s going to be alright.

He gave us this ministry of reconciliation. He gave us the gospel. He gave us testimony of his humanity. He lived a human life just like ours, tempted in every way we are but without sin. He gave us faith, hope, and love. He called us to be holy as he is holy.

It’s going to be alright.

It’s Christmas. It’s a day to celebrate the alrightness from God. It’s a day to rejoice in his goodness and mercy. It’s a day to celebrate the future hope we have in our redemption, the redemption that all creation eagerly longs for. It’s a day to celebrate the majesty of undeserved, unconditional, irresistible, hallelujah inspiring grace.

It’s going to be alright.

Hillbilly Elegy - A Review

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I’ve now read the much discussed book by J. D. Vance, Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis. It was promised to be a gritty read, revealing the reality of poverty in the Appalachian region that is often overlooked. The book largely lives up to its reputation.

Vance notes early on that it seems odd for someone his age—he’s in his early thirties—to write a memoir.  Unlike the biographies of young Christian athletes that seem to lurk on the shelves of Christian bookstores, Vance’s memoir is not presumptuous but worth the time it takes to read it.

So much time and effort is spent in explaining urban poverty. The breakdown of the urban family. The overloading of the urban school systems. Often the term “urban” is a code word for racial minorities.

While cyclic poverty is an issue in cities, Vance exposes the reality of rural poverty and shows that in many ways it may just as severe a problem as the urban variety. In fact, for some, rural poverty has a strong potential to be more severe. One reason for this is that many of the resources the urban poor rely upon are simply unavailable for the rural poor, or they are located too far away to be useful.

Vance succeeds in painting an accurate picture of some of the worst off among the so-called hillbillies. Having grown up in the foothills of the Appalachians, surrounded by people that fit the description of Vance’s hillbillies, I’ve heard some of the stories, seen some of the stress on kids, and smelled some of the misery he’s talking about. Thankfully I’ve never lived it, but it was close by. (I’m thinking about, for example, my friend whose dad was in jail for killing his mom with a hammer while high on some form of drugs.) Reading Vance describe what he went through gives me a bit more empathy for some of my acquaintances who were surviving bad situations.

If there is one key takeaway from reading this book, it should be empathy. It is likely that Vance’s story represents both the low end of hillbilly culture with the drug addicted mother, revolving door father-figures, and unawareness of the outside world. At the same time, it also represents an atypical result where someone was able to overcome the difficult start and had the talent to make it to and graduate from Yale’s law school. However, reading about the domestic abuse and social stigma Vance dealt with should work to kill some of the unforgiving dismissal of hicks, bumpkins, and swamp people that is common in suburban and urban culture. (I state that it is common based on anecdotal data, rather than empirical evidence)

Just as telling the stories of ethnic minorities suffering simply because of their ethnicity are part of the narrative of identity politics on the left, so might listening to stories of legitimate hardship among the many white, rural poor are a necessary part of understanding the perspective of a large swath of the nation.

Vance’s story helps explain why it took me years to be able to understand the racially stilted form of identity politics common among some of my more liberal and well to do friends at the Naval Academy. I knew that poverty, broken families, and systemic disadvantages were not solely owned by today’s preferred protected classes. Thankfully, I’ve had good people patiently explain why systemic injustice is still largely a racial issue instead of screaming at me. I’ve also known enough ethnic minorities to hear their stories to understand the biases against them and lived in the South long enough to recognize the historical proximity of Jim Crow to today.

At the same time, many more cosmopolitan Americans still fail to recognize that being among the rural poor can be nearly as socially damning as being an ethnic minority, but without the protection of the media, the judicial system, and the cultural left. Hillbilly Elegy helps explain why some people don’t believe in “White Privilege” and think that affirmative action is a form of vile racism. They feel feel like they are on the bottom of the social ladder and the zero-sum game policies of the political left keep them down. In some cases, that’s likely the case. As Vance explains, being white doesn’t grant as much social capital as those who equate whiteness with established families and well-positioned social networks seem to believe. It’s not that there is no benefit in some segments of society to being white, but that it isn’t quite the pass to an easy life that some seem to describe.

Hillbilly Elegy doesn’t answer every question about the white working class and its struggles. It doesn’t offer a master theory that will unite the nation politically after a turbulent election year. The book is not an academic treatise that considers all potential historical causes, nor does it reconcile all of the possible sociological implications of rural poverty. However, this memoir of a kid who lived rough but is doing pretty well so far helps to give a view into a world that many people never see from the interstates. It challenges racial narratives and, if read for empathy’s sake, could break down some of the bubble many appear to live in.

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

Martin Luther - A Children's Biography

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October 2017 will mark 500 years since Luther published his famous 95 Theses, which are often said to have kicked off the Protestant Reformation. A recent children’s biography on Luther by Simonetta Carr provides a delightful way to introduce the early German Reformer to children.

This volume is the latest edition in the series, Christian Biographies for Young Readers, which is published by Reformation Heritage Books. It is a beautifully illustrated, full color volume, that is likely to delight the reader even as it instructs.

Often children’s biography falls into the trap of hero worship. Obviously, a publisher like Reformation Heritage views the Protestant Reformation in a positive light. Thus it stands to reason they would celebrate Luther’s life and contribution to Church History. Carr, however, manages to avoid the pitfall of hagiography by presenting Luther’s story with its good and bad points.

This book critiques Luther for his coarse language and diatribes against the Jews later in his life, but it does not let those real, yet unfortunate failings diminish the impressive and exciting story of the monk turned Reformer. Roman Catholics or others who view the Protestant Reformation as a tragedy, and thus see Luther mainly negatively, will likely balk at the generally positive view Carr presents of his life and work. However, for most Protestant Christians, this volume strikes the proper note.

In recounting the life of Luther, Carr celebrates the recovery of the gospel from the twisted medieval traditionalism espoused by the Roman Catholic Church in the 16th century. Unlike many histories, this volume rightly argues that indulgences were the presenting problem, but the deeper issue was the loss of the gospel in the regular teaching of the Roman Catholic Church. That is why Luther’s ministry was so important; he was not dividing the universal church, he was seeking to preserve the gospel and was subsequently attacked by the traditionalists who elected to remain in error.

Some biographies work best if told as a story. Because of Luther’s wide range of activities and overall significance, Carr chose to tell his story in roughly chronological, but mostly topical chunks. There are seven chapters with 4-7 pages each. The chapters discuss his early life, clerical training, desire for reform, alienation from Roman Catholicism, attempts at Reform, marriage and family life, and broader ministry. The volume also includes a timeline, a collection of interesting facts about Luther, and a selection from Luther’s Short Catechism. Even young readers will walk away with a sense of the importance of Luther and an understanding of his life and work.

Much like other biographies in this series, Carr’s book about Luther is full-color throughout. Carr combines new illustrations from Troy Howell with historical engravings and paintings, along with photographs of some of the sites as they appear now. This breaks up the text and makes the book as a whole a feast for young eyes. (Older eyes will appreciate it, too, and may have to be reminded this book is for the kids.)

Whether you are looking for a gift for a child, seeking a volume for homeschool history, or simply building your library, this volume is worth purchasing. It is historically accurate, delightfully illustrated, with an appropriately critical tone. It represents both a celebration of the recovery of the gospel with a recognition of the pervasiveness of human sin, even among our heroes. Reformation Heritage Books should be applauded for continuing the series and publishing excellent children’s volumes like this one.

NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume from the publisher through Cross Focused Reviews with no expectation of a positive review.

For the Cause - A Tribute to Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary

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I started seminary in the fall of 2005. I’ve been a student at Southeastern since the Spring of 2007. I graduated with my PhD in December, 2016. It’s been a long road.

Despite that long road, however, I look back and am grateful for the opportunity to have studied at Southeastern. As a graduate of the United States Naval Academy, I know something about loyalty to an alma mater. (By the way: Beat Army!) Everything at USNA is geared toward imbuing the ethos of a professional naval officer. It’s in the facts that are memorized, the habits that are inculcated, and the courses that are studied.

I enjoyed (most of) my time at USNA, but was always somewhat surprised at the number of people that didn’t really believe in the mission. The thing is, you could be a good Company Officer or a good midshipman and not really believe in the mission. After all, people would say, it doesn’t really matter if your shoes are shined, it’s whether you can get the job done. There was often a subversive disbelief under the veneer of compliant excellence.

That contrasts distinctly with ethos of Southeastern. I have both worked there and been a student there. There are few shined shoes, but the school as a whole is one that has bought into its mission. That makes a huge difference.

Southeastern’s mission is pretty simple: “We seek to glorify the Lord Jesus Christ by equipping students to serve the church and fulfill the Great Commission.”

I had that mission memorized long before we moved to Wake Forest because every chapel sermon includes an introduction with Danny Akin’s voice announcing it. No one can get away from it because it hangs on many of the light poles throughout the campus and adorns the syllabus of each course offered through the institution.

More significantly, Southeastern’s mission animates the institution.

The school is certainly not a perfect organization. However, even its failings tend to lead to it falling in roughly the right direction. Having a clear mission and broad buy-in for that mission keeps the institution on track and calls it back even when it strays.

In this case the mission is easy to get behind. It’s an institution of higher learning, but one distinctly organized around theological education. The students, staff, and faculty that are drawn to the institution are those who have a strong desire to do something (they may not know what) for the glory of Christ and in service of his church.

Recently, the institution adopted a new school hymn. That was good, because the previous one was a dirge that did little to inspire. Southeastern’s school hymn is now a song by the modern hymn-writers, Keith and Kristyn Getty, called “For the Cause.”

As I listened to the song the first time, and the hundred times after, I could not help but recognize that it reflects exactly the ethos of the institution. It’s not just a slogan, it’s actually the driving idea behind the institution.

At graduation rehearsal, Danny Akin addressed the prospective graduates. In his simple address, it became apparent that his mission is the same as Southeastern’s mission. That’s part of why everyone else’s mission tends to blend in with it and become just like it.

If I were to do a study on the impact that a unified mission and vision could have on an organizational structure, I might choose to use Southeastern as an example. It’s an institution of higher learning dedicated to a simple, but important ministry: equipping men and women for service for kingdom of Christ.

I’m thankful for Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. Being surrounded by such a cloud of witness as the students, staff, and faculty pulling in the same direction was a terrific experience. It shaped me in ways I probably do not understand.

Southeastern is a going seminary, so I have friends in places of service around the globe. They were all equipped by Southeastern. More importantly, however, they were shaped and focused by the culture at the institution.

We sang “For the Cause” at the conclusion of the ceremony on Friday. It was a powerful moment, standing in the front row of a crowded chapel, hearing hundreds of voices heartily singing out in unison:

Let it be my life’s refrain
To live is Christ, to die is gain.
Deny myself
Take up my cross and follow the Son.

I'm confident the students and faculty meant it deeply, too. That makes a huge difference. In fact, it’s what makes Southeastern as special place. I’m now employed at Oklahoma Baptist University, but I will always appreciate my time at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary.

Wesley and the Anglicans - A Review

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If you’re like me, you probably don’t know that much about how Methodism separated from the Church of England. There were a few minutes of discussion in my Church History II class about John Wesley trying to keep his people inside the Church of England, but having it fall apart shortly after he died. That’s about all I knew, though if you had asked me, I would have credited it to some of the theological differences between the Anglican communion and the revivalistic Methodists.

In his recent book, Wesley and the Anglicans: Political Division in Early Evangelicalism, Ryan Danker gives a much more nuanced account. Even if the origins of Methodism are not a major interest for you, this book is enjoyable for students of historical theology.

Danker’s argument, fleshed out in nine chapters, is that the the divisions between John Wesley and the Anglicans were much more than theological. In fact, they were not primarily theological. After all, the same Church of England that eventually spit out the Methodists remained hosts to some Unitarians and other heterodox (and perhaps some heretical) theologians. Instead, the chief points of dissent between the Church of England and Wesley were those related to politics.

Summary

Chapter One outlines the characteristics of English Evangelicalism, which included Methodists, but also included more traditional members of the Church of England and dissenters on the outside of the sanctioned church. The second chapter places Wesley within the context of English Evangelicalism. He lived on the edge of acceptable circles, given his seeming drift toward dissenting ecclesiology combined with a surprising desire to remain within the high church tradition. He was at once too radical and too conservative for many English Evangelicals.

In Chapter Three, Danker surveys the vast array of pamphlets and tracts published about the Wesleys and by the Wesleys, which served to confuse people regarding the actual position of the Methodist movement about many issues. Fake news and propaganda had a place in this dispute as well. The fourth chapter considers the influence that political history in England had on the Methodist movement. As outliers on the ecclesial scale, the drift away from the Anglican communion caused many to remember the negatives of Cromwell and his revolutionaries. Indeed, there were echoes of ethical stringency among the Methodists that brought back unpleasant memories of Puritan political hegemony. This added to the negative view many had of Wesley and his followers.

Chapter Five reflects on the territorial tensions caused by Wesley and his large network of lay preachers. Parishes were generally divided by geographical boundaries, but Wesley’s unsupervised, unsanctioned lay preachers went to wherever their message was needed. This led to tension between Evangelical Anglicans who saw Methodist preachers making inroads in their territory, making it more difficult for them to reform. The sixth chapter documents how this tension was even increased as the Methodist lay preachers began to administer the Lord’s Supper, which was traditionally reserved for ordained clergy. This is a theological issue that gave momentum to the departure of the Methodists from the Church of England upon Wesley’s death.

Chapter Seven records the shifting political tide against the Methodists, as young men practicing some of the methodistic practices were expelled from state universities. This increased the attempts of the reform-seeking Evangelical Anglicans to distance themselves from the irregularities of Methodism and aided in the final alienation of Wesley’s tribe. Chapter Eight attempts to paint Wesley as a reformer in line with earlier forms of Christianity rather than the English reformation. Danker concludes the volume in the ninth chapter documenting Wesley’s final attempt to be reconciled to the Evangelical Anglicans, which eventually failed and caused him to drift farther from the Church of England.

Analysis

As a Baptist theologian reading about the life of Wesley and the split with Anglicanism, I found myself unfamiliar with some of the nuances of the history Danker expounds. His book, for me, was informative and engaging. It provides a gateway into the conflict of the origins of the Methodist denomination.

Danker argues his thesis well. He makes a solid case that there was much more to the division between the Wesleyan tradition and the Church of England than a dispute over Arminianism and Calvinism. (These are Danker’s terms on page 13.) Based on the story that Danker tells, it is clear that political tensions, territorial feuds, and a whole host of very human difficulties caused the final schism between the Methodists and the Church of England.

Whether Danker is right in his final analysis or whether he has overlooked significant evidence is a matter for the Methodists and Anglicans to fight out. I’ll bring my popcorn and enjoy the debate.

However, as a theologian and one who appreciates Church History, I applaud the care in Danker’s analysis to show that this is a complicated question. Too often history falls prey to the magic bullet explanation that neutralizes all counter arguments and makes simple that which is complex. That is what the Arminian/Calvinism split explanation has been for surveys of Church History and the reason for the Methodist exodus. Danker does well to show that there was much more at play. Humans are complicated creatures and our theological debates are often driven by more than simply the doctrinal question at hand. Here is a nuanced account of how one historical debate unfolded.

This volume could have been improved had Danker added a chapter laying out the accepted arguments for the split. He mentions in passing the soteriological explanation traditionally given in his introduction, but for those of us who have little background in Methodist/Anglican history, a bit more fleshing out would have been beneficial. That criticism aside, this is a helpful and interesting book that a student of Protestant Church History and Theology will likely find instructive and enjoyable.

Note: I received a gratis copy of this volume from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review.