Rev. Dr. Herman Ridderbos, one of the foremost developers of the redemptive-historical approach to Biblical theology, a hallmark of Westminster Theological Seminary, died 8 March, having celebrated his 98th birthday on 13 March. Among his more widely distributed writings were “Redemptive History and the New Testament Scriptures,” “Paul and Jesus,” and “Paul: An Outline of His Theology.” Reportedly Ned Stonehouse once said this of Ridderbos: “Wherever the Dutch language is read Professor Herman Ridderbos is recognized as an outstanding New Testament scholar and theologian . . .”
[HT: Jack Collins]
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Monday, March 12, 2007
Conferences and the Church
Last year, Carl Trueman published a very funny and yet very serious post on the Reformation21 blog, raising questions about the role of conferences in the lives of Christians. While it may have been a little "dangerous" raising these questions on the blog for the Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals, around the time of their sponsored PCRT, still the points Trueman raised are valid and need to be considered more thoughtfully and thoroughly.
One of the realities of evangelical Protestant life has been the multiplication of conferences; these conferences tend to represent particular market niches within the Reformed and evangelical world--the Gospel Coalition; Augusta Conference; Twin Lakes; Ligonier; Shepherds Conference; Resurgence; Together for the Gospel; PCRT; Desiring God; Banner of Truth (those are the ones that I came up with from the top of my head). As such, these conferences bring together the like-minded to hear solid preaching that ultimately encourages and reinforces particular aspirations, beliefs, practices, and stories--in other words, these conferences serve an important purpose in identity formation.
I think we've seen this most clearly in the recent debates over the Federal Vision--regardless of where one falls on those issues, it cannot be denied that the Biblical Horizon and Auburn Avenue conferences played a large role in forging a particular way of looking at the world for those who participated and adhere to their proposals--and this, I believe, speaks to issues of identity. It is the same way for frustrated boomers in the PCA, who have met in an invitation-only group for years, and now for frustrated Gen X-ers, who are doing the same. Bringing together like-minded individuals to conference on issues of concern is a long-standing way of forging identity.
On the surface, there is nothing "wrong" with conferences; I attend them as well. And yet, ultimately, these conferences are not "the Church"; and because this is the case, conferences may actually be fostering the division in the church that so many X-ers decry and yet may be unwittingly perpetuating. This is the case for the very reason that these conferences bring together the like-minded, the already-convinced, the insiders. They set the like-minded against the others--whether it is a "Reformed" doctrine conference against all the loosy-goosy Arminians or a non-denominational pastors conference that sets people against all the amillennialists.
And yet the Church is bigger than that--in the church, you have to learn how to work together with those with whom you agree and with those with whom you disagree. In the church, you serve on committees with those who trust the Church and the work of the Spirit through her and with those who distrust the Church and believe that it tends to abuse of authority. In the church, you worship with the high-church, the blended, the contemporary, the traditional, the low-church, the charismatic (and this is just the PCA) and somehow you have to see them all as brothers and sisters in Christ. In the church, you have to work to protect and negotiate the interests of builders, boomers, X-ers, Millennials, Y-ers; it's not possible simply to serve one group. In the church, you must be patient, you must believe all things, you must bear all things, even the thorns of ministry--because in the church, you truly learn to love as you love those with whom you have so little in common.
As we have our identities formed by our lives together as the Church, as opposed to issue-identity conferences, we truly image forth Christ's own body--where heads, hands, feet, eyes, and everyone else are vitally necessary. We learn to value those remarkably different from us, who see issues different us, who value worship different from us. We learn to live through the polity of our church, which best expresses the unity and diversity of the church. And we learn to confess that the "one, holy, catholic, apostolic church," even as represented by this little Presbyterian denomination, is a little bit bigger and messier that we knew--and that's a good thing.
One of the realities of evangelical Protestant life has been the multiplication of conferences; these conferences tend to represent particular market niches within the Reformed and evangelical world--the Gospel Coalition; Augusta Conference; Twin Lakes; Ligonier; Shepherds Conference; Resurgence; Together for the Gospel; PCRT; Desiring God; Banner of Truth (those are the ones that I came up with from the top of my head). As such, these conferences bring together the like-minded to hear solid preaching that ultimately encourages and reinforces particular aspirations, beliefs, practices, and stories--in other words, these conferences serve an important purpose in identity formation.
I think we've seen this most clearly in the recent debates over the Federal Vision--regardless of where one falls on those issues, it cannot be denied that the Biblical Horizon and Auburn Avenue conferences played a large role in forging a particular way of looking at the world for those who participated and adhere to their proposals--and this, I believe, speaks to issues of identity. It is the same way for frustrated boomers in the PCA, who have met in an invitation-only group for years, and now for frustrated Gen X-ers, who are doing the same. Bringing together like-minded individuals to conference on issues of concern is a long-standing way of forging identity.
On the surface, there is nothing "wrong" with conferences; I attend them as well. And yet, ultimately, these conferences are not "the Church"; and because this is the case, conferences may actually be fostering the division in the church that so many X-ers decry and yet may be unwittingly perpetuating. This is the case for the very reason that these conferences bring together the like-minded, the already-convinced, the insiders. They set the like-minded against the others--whether it is a "Reformed" doctrine conference against all the loosy-goosy Arminians or a non-denominational pastors conference that sets people against all the amillennialists.
And yet the Church is bigger than that--in the church, you have to learn how to work together with those with whom you agree and with those with whom you disagree. In the church, you serve on committees with those who trust the Church and the work of the Spirit through her and with those who distrust the Church and believe that it tends to abuse of authority. In the church, you worship with the high-church, the blended, the contemporary, the traditional, the low-church, the charismatic (and this is just the PCA) and somehow you have to see them all as brothers and sisters in Christ. In the church, you have to work to protect and negotiate the interests of builders, boomers, X-ers, Millennials, Y-ers; it's not possible simply to serve one group. In the church, you must be patient, you must believe all things, you must bear all things, even the thorns of ministry--because in the church, you truly learn to love as you love those with whom you have so little in common.
As we have our identities formed by our lives together as the Church, as opposed to issue-identity conferences, we truly image forth Christ's own body--where heads, hands, feet, eyes, and everyone else are vitally necessary. We learn to value those remarkably different from us, who see issues different us, who value worship different from us. We learn to live through the polity of our church, which best expresses the unity and diversity of the church. And we learn to confess that the "one, holy, catholic, apostolic church," even as represented by this little Presbyterian denomination, is a little bit bigger and messier that we knew--and that's a good thing.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
King of Gunsmoke
My youngest son, who is 3, has a fixation on western shows and particularly, guns in western shows (actually, he likes guns in any form or fashion, which other parents tell me is normal; since we don't have any guns in the house and I have a semi-pacifist stance on the personal use of force anyway, his fixation is a little unusual). His current favorite show (aside from The Andy Griffith Show) is Gunsmoke. He likes it so much that it shows up in unusual ways. The other day, he was playing with his older brother; he used his lower, royal voice to declare, "Bow down, Andrew, and I'll make you the King of Gunsmoke!"
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
The Spirituality of the Church
One of the interesting conversations going on in blogosphere is over a issue that I've spent a great deal of time, pastorally and academicially--"the spirituality of the church." I think this is an important conversation, because it gets to all sorts of very important issues for Presbyterians: the "power" or "authority" of the church; the freedom of the conscience; the relationship between "church" and "state"; etc.
That being said, it does strike me that in some quarters, there is a tendency to a "spirituality" doctrine that is far beyond what is necessary to protect the church's spiritual nature as well as beyond what Presbyterian forefathers believed. This view seems to be (my summary) that the church, especially in its ministerial and declarative functions, has no authority or power granted to it by the resurrected and ascended Christ to teach on moral matters that may be issues under consideration in the broader public realm. This would be evidenced in comments that the church should not preach or teach on issues related to poverty, systemic injustice, or racism because those are "public" issues.
[The more telling comment is that we shouldn't preach or teach on these issues because these were the concerns of the "Social Gospel," Presbyterian progressives in the old PCUS, or political liberals of the 1950s and 1960s. Such reminds me of a comment by L. Nelson Bell, founder of the Southern Presbyterian Journal, who once observed, “We resent this further intrusion of Church leaders into the realm of international polices for three reasons. First, they are not competent in that particular field. Second, they have no right to use the prestige of the Church in this matter. Third, we think their advice is dead wrong.” For Bell, the point was really the issue: he simply believed that progressive leaders were “dead wrong." But instead of making the case, leaders like Bell would simply appeal to the "spirituality of the church."]
I think this position is far beyond what 19th century southern Presbyterian leaders, for example, would have recognized. Thornwell and Dabney, among others, commonly made the distinction between taking a particular policy position or advocating a particular political solution as "the church" on the one hand and instructing members on the moral duties required of them as individual Christian citizens on the other. That is why you can find sermons from Thornwell on the "duties of masters and slaves" or from Dabney on "temperance"; both were moral issues that were also political issues and as such required the pulpit to open God's Word on those topics.
The issues under consideration today--poverty, racial and social injustice, AIDS, peace, women's roles in church and society--are both difficult and challenging issues that individual Christians face. While the spiritual nature of the church would prohibit binding the consciences of God's people on particular policies or approaches to deal with these issues, it does not prohibit a ministry of God's Word to deal with the moral requirements involved with them. And while we would not want to have a ministry that demands that Christians support debt relief for Africa, we do want a ministry that raises the point of how God cares (and by extension, how God's people must care) for the poor and forsaken in every culture, American or African.
By overextending the logic of the spiritual nature of the church, perhaps our ministers might fail to declare "the whole counsel of God," which cares not only for the glorious doctrines of our faith but also cares for the grim and desititute of our world--both of which are Gospel concerns. These are things concerning which ministerial power should declare God's Word.
That being said, it does strike me that in some quarters, there is a tendency to a "spirituality" doctrine that is far beyond what is necessary to protect the church's spiritual nature as well as beyond what Presbyterian forefathers believed. This view seems to be (my summary) that the church, especially in its ministerial and declarative functions, has no authority or power granted to it by the resurrected and ascended Christ to teach on moral matters that may be issues under consideration in the broader public realm. This would be evidenced in comments that the church should not preach or teach on issues related to poverty, systemic injustice, or racism because those are "public" issues.
[The more telling comment is that we shouldn't preach or teach on these issues because these were the concerns of the "Social Gospel," Presbyterian progressives in the old PCUS, or political liberals of the 1950s and 1960s. Such reminds me of a comment by L. Nelson Bell, founder of the Southern Presbyterian Journal, who once observed, “We resent this further intrusion of Church leaders into the realm of international polices for three reasons. First, they are not competent in that particular field. Second, they have no right to use the prestige of the Church in this matter. Third, we think their advice is dead wrong.” For Bell, the point was really the issue: he simply believed that progressive leaders were “dead wrong." But instead of making the case, leaders like Bell would simply appeal to the "spirituality of the church."]
I think this position is far beyond what 19th century southern Presbyterian leaders, for example, would have recognized. Thornwell and Dabney, among others, commonly made the distinction between taking a particular policy position or advocating a particular political solution as "the church" on the one hand and instructing members on the moral duties required of them as individual Christian citizens on the other. That is why you can find sermons from Thornwell on the "duties of masters and slaves" or from Dabney on "temperance"; both were moral issues that were also political issues and as such required the pulpit to open God's Word on those topics.
The issues under consideration today--poverty, racial and social injustice, AIDS, peace, women's roles in church and society--are both difficult and challenging issues that individual Christians face. While the spiritual nature of the church would prohibit binding the consciences of God's people on particular policies or approaches to deal with these issues, it does not prohibit a ministry of God's Word to deal with the moral requirements involved with them. And while we would not want to have a ministry that demands that Christians support debt relief for Africa, we do want a ministry that raises the point of how God cares (and by extension, how God's people must care) for the poor and forsaken in every culture, American or African.
By overextending the logic of the spiritual nature of the church, perhaps our ministers might fail to declare "the whole counsel of God," which cares not only for the glorious doctrines of our faith but also cares for the grim and desititute of our world--both of which are Gospel concerns. These are things concerning which ministerial power should declare God's Word.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Monk and Mallet
My dear friend, Steve Nichols, whom I have known longer than anyone other than my wife and parents, has just written a wonderful introduction called, The Reformation: How a Monk and a Mallet Changed the World. You can find out more about this book on this very cool website.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
Globalizing Theology, No. 1
A number of us at the seminary are reading a new book, edited by Craig Ott and Harold Netland, called Globalizing Theology. Meant as a festschrift for Paul Hiebert, the eminent missiologist who has taught for a generation at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, the book actually serves as a thought-provoking collection of essays, meant to prod theological educators into thinking about what it means to do theology in and for a "global" church.
After all, if God's mission is the transformation of his world by his people bringing his Gospel to all the nations, then that means we cannot allow our understanding of God to be boxed into our regional or national cultural systems. Through intentional ways, we must be in conversation with the church in other places and circumstances in order to discover our cultural blind spots and to gain wisdom and insight from other parts of Christ's church.
This represents a series of questions about which I've been thinking alot recently, both because we are in the midst of our self-study process and "globalization" is a major theme for our professional accreditors (the Association of Theological Schools) and because we are also beginning a new round of strategic planning. And so, these questions: What is God calling this little Presbyterian seminary to be and to do for the world's church? How can this be accomplish simply by paying attention to the internationals whom God has brought to St. Louis (which serves as a relocation center for internationals seeking asylum in the United States)? Even more, how would taking our "kingdom perspective" core value seriously lead to a transformation, or at least an augumentation, of the seminary's mission?
I don't know all the answers, although I think I sense some of the possible trajectories. But above all, it strikes me that if institutions like ours are going to be useful for the world-wide church, we need to take more seriously than we ever have that theological education must be for the whole church and must reflect the sense that God's mission in this world is for everyone from everywhere. What role a seminary like ours should play in this is open for question and dreaming.
After all, if God's mission is the transformation of his world by his people bringing his Gospel to all the nations, then that means we cannot allow our understanding of God to be boxed into our regional or national cultural systems. Through intentional ways, we must be in conversation with the church in other places and circumstances in order to discover our cultural blind spots and to gain wisdom and insight from other parts of Christ's church.
This represents a series of questions about which I've been thinking alot recently, both because we are in the midst of our self-study process and "globalization" is a major theme for our professional accreditors (the Association of Theological Schools) and because we are also beginning a new round of strategic planning. And so, these questions: What is God calling this little Presbyterian seminary to be and to do for the world's church? How can this be accomplish simply by paying attention to the internationals whom God has brought to St. Louis (which serves as a relocation center for internationals seeking asylum in the United States)? Even more, how would taking our "kingdom perspective" core value seriously lead to a transformation, or at least an augumentation, of the seminary's mission?
I don't know all the answers, although I think I sense some of the possible trajectories. But above all, it strikes me that if institutions like ours are going to be useful for the world-wide church, we need to take more seriously than we ever have that theological education must be for the whole church and must reflect the sense that God's mission in this world is for everyone from everywhere. What role a seminary like ours should play in this is open for question and dreaming.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Carl Trueman Strikes Again
As readers of this blog know, I greatly admire Carl Trueman's insight into things cultural and historical. This analysis of postmodernity is one of his best bits of work.
The Pistol
Since we had a snow day yesterday, I was able to finish Mark Kriegel's Pistol: The Life of Pete Maravich. For someone who knew more about Pistol Pete by reputation than personal experience (I didn't start paying attention to the NBA until 1981 when the Houston Rockets made it to the NBA finals; Pete had retired the year before), I found the book to be a useful introduction to one of the most prolific college scorers in the history of basketball.
But Kriegel's story was much more--it was really about the difficult relationship between Pete and his father, Press. The father had groomed Pete to be the first million dollar basketball player; through the intense practice (Homework Basketball) to the intense criticism and perfectionism, Press shaped Pete's world. This shaping, however, was not positive--rather, it taught Pete that he could never measure up to Press's exacting standards and hence, was not worthwhile.
The result was a pattern of destructive behavior, centering mainly on fast women, fast cars, and booze. But it also resulted in Pete struggling to find something or someone outside of himself that would "take him" away (including UFOs--he actually wrote "take me" as a message to UFOs on the roof of his Atlanta condo). His behavior become increasingly destructive, extreme or bizarre and centered on crazy fads until he finally retired in 1980.
Then, in a life without basketball, Pete was left to review all his "failures," the games where he could have been "perfect," the destructive alcohol abuse, the relationship with his father. At the end a long, dark night, Pete prayed for God to save him--and God did. Everyone testified that Pete's life radically changed: for the first time in his life, he seemed happy and at peace. And though it seemed like Christianity might be just another extreme fad, Pete's faith commitment "stuck" and led to his father and wife both professing faith in Jesus. He poured himself into Bible study and other spiritual disciplines and shared his faith constantly.
That part of the story made me nearly cry several times--this insecure boy-man who was transformed by a security found in Christ. And because this story was written by a sports biography who had no real interest in "faith," but great interest in his subject, I believe this story was worth reading and sharing with others. It also led me to find other sites dedicated to Pete Maravich: two of the better ones include the official Pistol Pete site and a YouTube site that a very cool 6 minute video of Pete highlights.
But Kriegel's story was much more--it was really about the difficult relationship between Pete and his father, Press. The father had groomed Pete to be the first million dollar basketball player; through the intense practice (Homework Basketball) to the intense criticism and perfectionism, Press shaped Pete's world. This shaping, however, was not positive--rather, it taught Pete that he could never measure up to Press's exacting standards and hence, was not worthwhile.
The result was a pattern of destructive behavior, centering mainly on fast women, fast cars, and booze. But it also resulted in Pete struggling to find something or someone outside of himself that would "take him" away (including UFOs--he actually wrote "take me" as a message to UFOs on the roof of his Atlanta condo). His behavior become increasingly destructive, extreme or bizarre and centered on crazy fads until he finally retired in 1980.
Then, in a life without basketball, Pete was left to review all his "failures," the games where he could have been "perfect," the destructive alcohol abuse, the relationship with his father. At the end a long, dark night, Pete prayed for God to save him--and God did. Everyone testified that Pete's life radically changed: for the first time in his life, he seemed happy and at peace. And though it seemed like Christianity might be just another extreme fad, Pete's faith commitment "stuck" and led to his father and wife both professing faith in Jesus. He poured himself into Bible study and other spiritual disciplines and shared his faith constantly.
That part of the story made me nearly cry several times--this insecure boy-man who was transformed by a security found in Christ. And because this story was written by a sports biography who had no real interest in "faith," but great interest in his subject, I believe this story was worth reading and sharing with others. It also led me to find other sites dedicated to Pete Maravich: two of the better ones include the official Pistol Pete site and a YouTube site that a very cool 6 minute video of Pete highlights.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Further Odds and Ends
1. I find that I hardly have any time to write posts. I was actually prolific on Friday because I was sitting at a conference; I'm terribly fidgety at conferences and so it seemed a good time to write. Please don't give up on me; I'm still posting two or so times a week--it is just that the volume and velocity of my position makes it hard to breathe sometimes.
2. Of course, you who read this blog probably realize that the Big Game turned out like I hoped it would (for those of you who don't, I am a big Colts fan). For someone who predicted that Peyton would never win the Big Game and who whined that all his sports teams were cursed by his support, the past four months or so have been very, very good to my teams.
3. Two books that I recently bought, very different in character: Pistol: The Life of Pete Maravich by Mark Kriegel and On Prayer: Conversation with God by John Calvin with introductory essay by I. John Hesselink. I'll probably read the book on Pistol Pete first.
4. In heavy rotation in my F-150's CD player, The Beatles' Love. I've been very pleased with the way Giles Martin has brought these tracks (which are older than I am! I was born after the Beatles broke up...) into the postmodern age. They sound like they were recorded yesterday (hmmm, that would make a good title for a song..."Yesterday"). My favorite Beatles' song is still "Revolution."
2. Of course, you who read this blog probably realize that the Big Game turned out like I hoped it would (for those of you who don't, I am a big Colts fan). For someone who predicted that Peyton would never win the Big Game and who whined that all his sports teams were cursed by his support, the past four months or so have been very, very good to my teams.
3. Two books that I recently bought, very different in character: Pistol: The Life of Pete Maravich by Mark Kriegel and On Prayer: Conversation with God by John Calvin with introductory essay by I. John Hesselink. I'll probably read the book on Pistol Pete first.
4. In heavy rotation in my F-150's CD player, The Beatles' Love. I've been very pleased with the way Giles Martin has brought these tracks (which are older than I am! I was born after the Beatles broke up...) into the postmodern age. They sound like they were recorded yesterday (hmmm, that would make a good title for a song..."Yesterday"). My favorite Beatles' song is still "Revolution."
Thursday, February 01, 2007
The Banality of Mainline American Protestants
I am sitting right now at a meeting of Seminary administrators, listening to a very prominent evangelism professor who teaches at an East Coast mainline Protestant seminary. I was familiar with his work before, but listening to his "semiotic" analysis of American culture, I can say with some certainity that if this is what attracts mainstream Protestants, then that branch of Protestantism is hopelessly banal.
While he said nothing false, he also said nothing new. He told 35 academic deans that American culture is characterized by postmodernity, post-Christendom, and post-scale (under this point, he also listed posthuman, post-"cold," and post-"round"). Whew. You don't say. I had never heard about this before; you mean that I have to put my 8-tracks away??
Again, everything he said is amply declared in the literature (philosophical, theological, historical, sociological, and political literature). But that is just the point--he said everything in such a "Gee Whiz" tone of voice, it made me wonder whether and why most people who hear him talk find him "innovative." The only answer that I can come up with is that mainstream Protestantism is so far behind the curve that they seize onto this man's work as "cutting-edge."
And that can only mean that mainline Protestantism is hopelessly banal.
While he said nothing false, he also said nothing new. He told 35 academic deans that American culture is characterized by postmodernity, post-Christendom, and post-scale (under this point, he also listed posthuman, post-"cold," and post-"round"). Whew. You don't say. I had never heard about this before; you mean that I have to put my 8-tracks away??
Again, everything he said is amply declared in the literature (philosophical, theological, historical, sociological, and political literature). But that is just the point--he said everything in such a "Gee Whiz" tone of voice, it made me wonder whether and why most people who hear him talk find him "innovative." The only answer that I can come up with is that mainstream Protestantism is so far behind the curve that they seize onto this man's work as "cutting-edge."
And that can only mean that mainline Protestantism is hopelessly banal.
Faithful Witness
This interview with Albert Mohler, president of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, is an excellent, winsome relation of the doctrines of grace to his recent illness. It represents faithful witness of the best kind.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
The upcoming game
As long-time readers of this blog realize, I'm a pretty big Indianapolis Colts fan. Actually, I am a pretty big Peyton Manning fan and get the rest of the Colts as a bonus. When Peyton threw the pick-six in the AFC Championship Game a few days ago, I was so frustrated with him that I took of my jersey, threw it in the closet, and played a game with my kids. But after our game was over, I went back down stairs and turned the game on again, found my jersey and hung it up again. I always come back...
But, like Peyton, I'm try to keep even-keeled about that upcoming game, the pretty big one with the Roman numerals after it. Trying to enjoy the journey more and hope, just hope, that they are able to beat those folks from up I-65. Even though the Colts are a big favorite (still a touchdown), I've groused in my heart all week since I got my Sports Illustrated in the mail--they put Peyton on the cover and you know what that means. The week Jeff Garcia was on the cover, Eagles lost; the week Drew Brees was on the cover, Saints lost; the week Peyton is on...
All Colts fans everywhere wonder, Why didn't they put Rex Grossman on the cover??
Anyway, I thought this ESPN piece on Peyton was excellent and I'm sure that there are other good things being written. But I'm not reading a lot of them; I've got my game face on, saying the Peyton mantra, "It's all about enjoying journey..." And hopefully, by 10pm on Sunday night, it will be a celebration for the second Lucas-cheered team to win the world championship in their sport.
The curse is over; long live the Colts!
But, like Peyton, I'm try to keep even-keeled about that upcoming game, the pretty big one with the Roman numerals after it. Trying to enjoy the journey more and hope, just hope, that they are able to beat those folks from up I-65. Even though the Colts are a big favorite (still a touchdown), I've groused in my heart all week since I got my Sports Illustrated in the mail--they put Peyton on the cover and you know what that means. The week Jeff Garcia was on the cover, Eagles lost; the week Drew Brees was on the cover, Saints lost; the week Peyton is on...
All Colts fans everywhere wonder, Why didn't they put Rex Grossman on the cover??
Anyway, I thought this ESPN piece on Peyton was excellent and I'm sure that there are other good things being written. But I'm not reading a lot of them; I've got my game face on, saying the Peyton mantra, "It's all about enjoying journey..." And hopefully, by 10pm on Sunday night, it will be a celebration for the second Lucas-cheered team to win the world championship in their sport.
The curse is over; long live the Colts!
Saturday, January 27, 2007
InterVarsity Press
In the aftermath of a busy week, the Lord graciously had our youngest sleep for a couple hours while my wife went to work out at the YMCA and my other three kids played in our basement. That allowed me to lay in bed and finish reading Heart. Soul. Mind. Strength.: An Anecedotal History of InterVarsity Press, 1947-2007.
I've been involved with the Christian publishing industry for a good chunk of my life--first as a Christian bookstore employee (at the long-defunct Sonrise Shoppe in Fairfax, Virginia, and Ark and Dove in Alexandria, Virginia), then as a academic book buyer (at Westminster Seminary Campus Bookstore and LifeWay Campus Stores), and now as an author. Because of this involvement, I've always been fascinated with the publishing process and especially with the acquisition part of the business (though my wife would say that I'm simply fascinated with books, period).
For someone like me, then, this book was simply a wonderfully breezy, insightful and honest inside look at one of the more important Christian publishing companies in the country. I was particularly impressed by the ways that the IVCF's approach to ministry initially influenced IVP's publishing program. I also enjoyed the way the authors described the transition from "family business" to "corporate business" that IVP has gone through over the past 15 years; it was an interesting reflection on the maturation of Christian publishers and publishing.
All in all, a book that at first glance might seem a little dry was actually a fast-paced and entertaining look at one of the more important Christian publishers in the country. Highly recommended, especially for lazy Saturday afternoons!
I've been involved with the Christian publishing industry for a good chunk of my life--first as a Christian bookstore employee (at the long-defunct Sonrise Shoppe in Fairfax, Virginia, and Ark and Dove in Alexandria, Virginia), then as a academic book buyer (at Westminster Seminary Campus Bookstore and LifeWay Campus Stores), and now as an author. Because of this involvement, I've always been fascinated with the publishing process and especially with the acquisition part of the business (though my wife would say that I'm simply fascinated with books, period).
For someone like me, then, this book was simply a wonderfully breezy, insightful and honest inside look at one of the more important Christian publishing companies in the country. I was particularly impressed by the ways that the IVCF's approach to ministry initially influenced IVP's publishing program. I also enjoyed the way the authors described the transition from "family business" to "corporate business" that IVP has gone through over the past 15 years; it was an interesting reflection on the maturation of Christian publishers and publishing.
All in all, a book that at first glance might seem a little dry was actually a fast-paced and entertaining look at one of the more important Christian publishers in the country. Highly recommended, especially for lazy Saturday afternoons!
Monday, January 22, 2007
Elizabeth Fox-Genovese
I was saddened to see the news in First Things that Elizabeth Fox-Genovese, the prominent historian of the American South and opponent of modern radical feminism, passed away on January 2, 2007. Though she had long battled illness, I still grieve for Gene, her husband and fellow historian. One small gladness is that they were able to see their lifetime project, The Mind of the Master Class, into print before she died; even more gladness can be found in her profession of faith in Jesus as a faithful Savior.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
More Odds and Ends
1. We finally have power again. Monday night, after we had lined up alternative sleeping arrangements, it came back on. I never realized how dependent I was upon electricity. It made me vow that the next house I buy would have multiple fire places so that there would be an alternative heating source (our last house in Kentucky had two fireplaces; the next house will as well).
2. In December, I had written this post about Harvard's curriculum review and their exclusion of a required religion course. The story has been picked up by MSNBC/Newsweek.
3. My friend, Aaron Messner, has accepted the position of college chaplain at Covenant College. Aaron is one of a rising generation of solid, expositional preachers; he has ministered for the past four plus years at Tenth Presbyterian Church. This is a great choice for a strategic position.
4. This was a very thought-provoking post by my colleague, Anthony Bradley. Even more interesting has been the discussion. I think at least part of the answer to the issues that Anthony and the blog commentators raise can be found in the fact that “theological” ideas work within cultural systems, in which other intellectual commitments, social and economic practices, education, gender, class identifications, and narratives work together either to support or subvert those theological ideas. Hence, it is not merely theology versus culture (and hence, a matter of clearing up cultural blind spots); rather, theological commitments always incarnate themselves within cultural systems, and hence will be partially worked out (i.e. with blind spots).
I think this is the only way to move toward a nuance explanation of the failures of conservative Protestants in the American South in the 19th and 20th centuries (or Dutch Reformed in South Africa during the same period; or Kuyper defending those Dutch Reformed “folk”; or Jonathan Edwards owning slaves; or mainline Protestants current failure on abortion; or whomever). It allows us to view the past with a critical eye, and to trace the way theological commitments were compromised and contradicted, but not completely jettison everything the past has to teach us (as some of the commentators on this post seem to desire). As I have suggested elsewhere, "Dabney [and others like him] should be remembered because the past is the parent of the present, because many of the public stances of evangelicals either fail to maintain the spiritual nature of the church or fail to provide room for humility and self-criticism, and because recognizing Dabney's failures can help point evangelicals in a different direction to 'a more excellent way.'" Sometimes historical failures can teach us far more because they force us to look at ourselves far more self-critically and ultimately to look to Jesus.
5. I'm sure glad these guys held on last night. I don't think anyway expecting them to start the Big Ten season 4-1.
6. I've been disappointed in the way the Pacers have played, and I wish they didn't have to give up Harrington in this deal. But anything to get rid of Stephen Jackson is a good trade.
7. The other night I finished Wendell Berry's new novel, Andy Catlett: Early Travels. I hope to have a review sometime soon. Along this line, this coming Sunday, I am slated to teach in adult Sunday school on the way that Berry's work can help us think about God, creation, and community at Covenant Presbyterian Church.
2. In December, I had written this post about Harvard's curriculum review and their exclusion of a required religion course. The story has been picked up by MSNBC/Newsweek.
3. My friend, Aaron Messner, has accepted the position of college chaplain at Covenant College. Aaron is one of a rising generation of solid, expositional preachers; he has ministered for the past four plus years at Tenth Presbyterian Church. This is a great choice for a strategic position.
4. This was a very thought-provoking post by my colleague, Anthony Bradley. Even more interesting has been the discussion. I think at least part of the answer to the issues that Anthony and the blog commentators raise can be found in the fact that “theological” ideas work within cultural systems, in which other intellectual commitments, social and economic practices, education, gender, class identifications, and narratives work together either to support or subvert those theological ideas. Hence, it is not merely theology versus culture (and hence, a matter of clearing up cultural blind spots); rather, theological commitments always incarnate themselves within cultural systems, and hence will be partially worked out (i.e. with blind spots).
I think this is the only way to move toward a nuance explanation of the failures of conservative Protestants in the American South in the 19th and 20th centuries (or Dutch Reformed in South Africa during the same period; or Kuyper defending those Dutch Reformed “folk”; or Jonathan Edwards owning slaves; or mainline Protestants current failure on abortion; or whomever). It allows us to view the past with a critical eye, and to trace the way theological commitments were compromised and contradicted, but not completely jettison everything the past has to teach us (as some of the commentators on this post seem to desire). As I have suggested elsewhere, "Dabney [and others like him] should be remembered because the past is the parent of the present, because many of the public stances of evangelicals either fail to maintain the spiritual nature of the church or fail to provide room for humility and self-criticism, and because recognizing Dabney's failures can help point evangelicals in a different direction to 'a more excellent way.'" Sometimes historical failures can teach us far more because they force us to look at ourselves far more self-critically and ultimately to look to Jesus.
5. I'm sure glad these guys held on last night. I don't think anyway expecting them to start the Big Ten season 4-1.
6. I've been disappointed in the way the Pacers have played, and I wish they didn't have to give up Harrington in this deal. But anything to get rid of Stephen Jackson is a good trade.
7. The other night I finished Wendell Berry's new novel, Andy Catlett: Early Travels. I hope to have a review sometime soon. Along this line, this coming Sunday, I am slated to teach in adult Sunday school on the way that Berry's work can help us think about God, creation, and community at Covenant Presbyterian Church.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Odds and Ends
1. We've been without power since early Saturday morning because of the most recent ice storm. Thankfully, the rest of the storm was a mostly non-event; however, it doesn't really explan why Ameren has been so slow restoring the power to my zip code and especially to the homes in my neighborhood, which all have underground lines. In fact, the houses in the next development, that have regular suspended lines (and had several lines down) got their power back last night! Go figure.
2. While I'm thankful that my Indianapolis Colts won, I'm not thankful at all that their eternal nemesis, the New England Pats, won too. At least Sunday's game will be at the RCA Dome, where the Colts are 9-0 this season; it'll make their defense a little faster. And at least Bob Sanders is back and the Colts have begun to play run defense. Still, it is hard to be confident in the light of Tom Brady's amazing comeback last night.
3. Another Saturday event in which we participated was the St. Louis Cardinals Winter Warm-up. Never was an event so appropriately named, with our home's indoor temp hovering around 50 degrees. I took my five-year old son with me and we saw all kinds of Cards stuff; we were also the closest we've ever been to El Hombre. Bought the two things for which I've long pined: a baseball signed by Scott Rolen and a 1958 card signed by Stan Musial. Both go in my baseball "shrine" in my office here at the Seminary.
4. One of the better pieces of news from one of the college football teams I follow is this.
5. Though I wasn't a big fan of the Kelvin Sampson hiring, I have to admit these guys are playing hard defense and move around a lot better on offense than during the Mike Davis era.
2. While I'm thankful that my Indianapolis Colts won, I'm not thankful at all that their eternal nemesis, the New England Pats, won too. At least Sunday's game will be at the RCA Dome, where the Colts are 9-0 this season; it'll make their defense a little faster. And at least Bob Sanders is back and the Colts have begun to play run defense. Still, it is hard to be confident in the light of Tom Brady's amazing comeback last night.
3. Another Saturday event in which we participated was the St. Louis Cardinals Winter Warm-up. Never was an event so appropriately named, with our home's indoor temp hovering around 50 degrees. I took my five-year old son with me and we saw all kinds of Cards stuff; we were also the closest we've ever been to El Hombre. Bought the two things for which I've long pined: a baseball signed by Scott Rolen and a 1958 card signed by Stan Musial. Both go in my baseball "shrine" in my office here at the Seminary.
4. One of the better pieces of news from one of the college football teams I follow is this.
5. Though I wasn't a big fan of the Kelvin Sampson hiring, I have to admit these guys are playing hard defense and move around a lot better on offense than during the Mike Davis era.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Mark McGwire and the Hypocrisy of the Media
Here in St. Louis, for the past week, all that has been talked about on the local sports radio is Mark McGwire's status in the Hall of Fame balloting, which is to be announced today. In the local newspaper, a poll of eligible BBWAA voters suggests that less than 20% will vote for Big Mac. And a local columnist wrote with incredible venom about McGwire, saying at the end of his piece, "In my mind, Mark McGwire is a drug cheat whose greatest baseball moments were fueled by the tip of a steroid-filled syringe."
Now, all of that may be true--because baseball did not have steroid testing during the McGwire era, it is hard to say whether he was a "drug cheat." The only supplement that we know he took, andro, was legal at the time (though it is no longer). And McGwire's lack of forthrightness at the Congressional hearings in March 2005 certainly didn't help his cause.
Still, the hypocrisy of all of this becomes incredibly obvious when compared to the case of San Diego Chargers' football star, linebacker Shawn Merriman. For example, Peter King of Sports Illustrated, whom I enjoy reading, voted for Merriman for his All-Pro team, writing, "Merriman? Len Pasquarelli echoed what I think about this the other day on ESPN radio. In football, when we deliberate for the Hall of Fame, we do not take off-field stuff into account. (Or at least we're told not to.) And Merriman was good enough in 12 games to be, in my mind, one of football's two best outside linebackers."
Now remember, Merriman only played 12 games this season, because he tested positive for a known steroid; he is a convicted "drug cheat." And yet, not only is there no outrage, but he was voted to the All-Pro team. And when Jason Taylor, defensive end for the Miami Dolphins, had the temerity to suggest that Merriman shouldn't be eligible for postseason honors (such as the Pro Bowl or Defensive Player of the Year) because he was suspended for 'roids, he was nominated on the Mike and Mike Show for their "just shut up" award.
I can't help but think this is hypocrisy on a large scale--honoring a convicted 'roid user while hammering someone with no evidence of cheating--but the question I am really interested in is, "How do we account for the differences in reaction to McGwire and Merriman?" Is it because of the mythic status of baseball? Is it because McGwire's chase of Maris caused cynical sportswriters to become starry-eyed romantics and so "fooled" them? Is it because everyone simply assumes that football is a dirty game and that it doesn't matter?
Even more, I wonder about what this says about American attitudes about "character" and "integrity." While McGwire has been ridiculed, even though nothing has been proven about his alleged drug use (notice, I'm not saying that he didn't use 'roids--he may have--but only that it has not been proven nor are there any strong links, as there are with Barry Bonds), Merriman is honored--and yet Merriman is the one whose character and integrity are (or should be) in question. Even more, Merriman has flaunted all this, sending Taylor a Merriman "fan pack," with tee-shirt and DVD! What does this say about the ways we look at integrity in public characters, whether sports heroes, politicians, or ministers?
Now, all of that may be true--because baseball did not have steroid testing during the McGwire era, it is hard to say whether he was a "drug cheat." The only supplement that we know he took, andro, was legal at the time (though it is no longer). And McGwire's lack of forthrightness at the Congressional hearings in March 2005 certainly didn't help his cause.
Still, the hypocrisy of all of this becomes incredibly obvious when compared to the case of San Diego Chargers' football star, linebacker Shawn Merriman. For example, Peter King of Sports Illustrated, whom I enjoy reading, voted for Merriman for his All-Pro team, writing, "Merriman? Len Pasquarelli echoed what I think about this the other day on ESPN radio. In football, when we deliberate for the Hall of Fame, we do not take off-field stuff into account. (Or at least we're told not to.) And Merriman was good enough in 12 games to be, in my mind, one of football's two best outside linebackers."
Now remember, Merriman only played 12 games this season, because he tested positive for a known steroid; he is a convicted "drug cheat." And yet, not only is there no outrage, but he was voted to the All-Pro team. And when Jason Taylor, defensive end for the Miami Dolphins, had the temerity to suggest that Merriman shouldn't be eligible for postseason honors (such as the Pro Bowl or Defensive Player of the Year) because he was suspended for 'roids, he was nominated on the Mike and Mike Show for their "just shut up" award.
I can't help but think this is hypocrisy on a large scale--honoring a convicted 'roid user while hammering someone with no evidence of cheating--but the question I am really interested in is, "How do we account for the differences in reaction to McGwire and Merriman?" Is it because of the mythic status of baseball? Is it because McGwire's chase of Maris caused cynical sportswriters to become starry-eyed romantics and so "fooled" them? Is it because everyone simply assumes that football is a dirty game and that it doesn't matter?
Even more, I wonder about what this says about American attitudes about "character" and "integrity." While McGwire has been ridiculed, even though nothing has been proven about his alleged drug use (notice, I'm not saying that he didn't use 'roids--he may have--but only that it has not been proven nor are there any strong links, as there are with Barry Bonds), Merriman is honored--and yet Merriman is the one whose character and integrity are (or should be) in question. Even more, Merriman has flaunted all this, sending Taylor a Merriman "fan pack," with tee-shirt and DVD! What does this say about the ways we look at integrity in public characters, whether sports heroes, politicians, or ministers?
Monday, January 08, 2007
Jonathan Edwards: Presbyterian?
[Note: I received a photocopy of this article from Wayne Sparkman, director of the PCA Historical Center. I thought it was so interesting that I would post it here. It was originally addressed to R. J. Breckinridge, editor of the Baltimore Literary and Religious Magazine, and published here in The Presbyterian.]
Ashbel Green, "President Edwards a Presbyterian," The Presbyterian (12 January 1839): 201.
Philadelphia, Nov. 12th 1838
Rev. and Dear Sir:--I have recollected, since I last saw you, that the fact has already been published, which I then mentioned to you in conversation;--and in regard to which you requested me to furnish you with a written statement. In the Christian Advocate, the 10th volume--the volume for the year 1832, and in the No. for March of that year, page 128--after having mentioned a class of Congregationalists, who, in my estimation, were eminent for genuine piety, I added as follows:--"We should have put down here, the name of the great President Edwards; but he was, in sentiment, a decided Presbyterian, and left a manuscript in favor of Presbyterian church government; as his son, the second President Edwards, distinctly admitted to us not long before his death. Beside, the elder Edwards was either a member of the Presbytery of New Brunswick, at the time of his death, or would soon have been so, if his lamented decease, shortly after his becoming President off the College at Princeton, had not prevented."
The admission referred to in the foregoing extract, was made in consequence of an inquiry put, by me, to Dr. Edwards, as he and I were walking together to the place of meeting of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian church, then in session in this city. I do not recollect the year. I had heard a report, which I think must have come either from my father or from my colleague Dr. Sproat,--both of whom were contemporaries and admirers of the first President Edwards--that he had written a tract, or an essay, in favor of Presbyterian church government; and I was glad to take the opportunity which at this time offered, to ascertain from his son the truth or fallacy of the report. The inquiry resulted in the distinct admission that the report which I had heard was true.
I spoke to Dr. Edwards, of printing the tract or essay, in question; but he did not seem to favor the idea, and I forbore to press it. He said, that the manuscript referred to, was among several other unpublished papers of his father, which, as I understood him, were then in his hands. Into whose hands they have passed, since the death of Dr. Edwards, is unknown to me.
Respectfully and affectionately, Yours,
Ashbel Green
Ashbel Green, "President Edwards a Presbyterian," The Presbyterian (12 January 1839): 201.
Philadelphia, Nov. 12th 1838
Rev. and Dear Sir:--I have recollected, since I last saw you, that the fact has already been published, which I then mentioned to you in conversation;--and in regard to which you requested me to furnish you with a written statement. In the Christian Advocate, the 10th volume--the volume for the year 1832, and in the No. for March of that year, page 128--after having mentioned a class of Congregationalists, who, in my estimation, were eminent for genuine piety, I added as follows:--"We should have put down here, the name of the great President Edwards; but he was, in sentiment, a decided Presbyterian, and left a manuscript in favor of Presbyterian church government; as his son, the second President Edwards, distinctly admitted to us not long before his death. Beside, the elder Edwards was either a member of the Presbytery of New Brunswick, at the time of his death, or would soon have been so, if his lamented decease, shortly after his becoming President off the College at Princeton, had not prevented."
The admission referred to in the foregoing extract, was made in consequence of an inquiry put, by me, to Dr. Edwards, as he and I were walking together to the place of meeting of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian church, then in session in this city. I do not recollect the year. I had heard a report, which I think must have come either from my father or from my colleague Dr. Sproat,--both of whom were contemporaries and admirers of the first President Edwards--that he had written a tract, or an essay, in favor of Presbyterian church government; and I was glad to take the opportunity which at this time offered, to ascertain from his son the truth or fallacy of the report. The inquiry resulted in the distinct admission that the report which I had heard was true.
I spoke to Dr. Edwards, of printing the tract or essay, in question; but he did not seem to favor the idea, and I forbore to press it. He said, that the manuscript referred to, was among several other unpublished papers of his father, which, as I understood him, were then in his hands. Into whose hands they have passed, since the death of Dr. Edwards, is unknown to me.
Respectfully and affectionately, Yours,
Ashbel Green
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Andrew Carnegie
Another biography that I finished during the Christmas break was historian David Nasaw's massive Andrew Carnegie (Penguin, 2006). Tipping the scales at barely over 800 pages, Nasaw gives a thorough look at the little man who dominated the steel industry in the period of America we know as the Gilded Age. And while the thoroughness of the book would appear to leave little room for criticism, I left the book not quite sure what to make of Carnegie.
Starting with Carnegie's birth in 1835 in Dunfermline, Scotland, to a linen weaver, Nasaw deftly charts the rise of this "Star Spangled Scotchman." From the time Carnegie's family emigrates to Pittsburgh when the boy was 14, Andrew was on the make--hustling from one job to the next and investing his money in companies headed by friends and guided by insider information, Carnegie would eventually be a millionaire by the time he was 35.
The key moment in his business career was when he put his "eggs in one basket," moving nearly all his capital to founding Carnegie Steel. In order to protect his steel company, Carnegie ruthlessly set out to acquire everything needed for production, including H. C. Frick Coke, and to bully others into cooperating with him, including the Pennsylvania Railroad. He was civic booster and cheerleader when he needed to be, but he was also a hard-edged business man who knew how to make others fall into line. He gained the respect of financial men on both sides of the Atlantic for the way he would carefully invest his own money and enthusiastically booster for other people's money.
Nasaw describes Carnegie's rise to financial independence well, moving the reader quickly through the first two hundred pages. Unfortunately, by the time Andrew is nearly 50, the book bogs down--it takes six hundred pages to move from 1881 to Carnegie's death in 1919. This is not to say that there isn't insight in these pages--there is: Carnegie's fairly consistent defense of international peace strategies; his attempt to develop himself into a man of letters; his support and influence in the Republican Party; his determination to carry out his "Gospel of Wealth" ideals, and especially his part in the 1892 Homestead debacle. But surely this section of Carnegie's life could have been handled in half the page amount, resulting in a crisper and more focused story.
Because he drowned the reader in the details of Carnegie's life (sections felt more like a travelogue than anything else), Nasaw missed a point to tease out aspects of his subject's personality. Though he noted Carnegie's insecurity or somewhat neurotic behavior at points, I never felt that Nasaw made those character qualities central to "Carnegie the Man." But if there was ever someone who appeared clearly to suffer from "little man's syndrome," it was Carnegie. Not only did he come close to five feet tall, but his constant name-dropping, attempts to influence national and world events, and almost messianic view of his importance to world peace all suggested a person deeply uncomfortable with himself. Yet Nasaw never really probes down into Carnegie's heart to see what is there, perhaps because he got lost in the detailed and overlong narrative.
One of the findings that particularly interested me was Carnegie's religious views. Raised in a family that had little use for their native Church of Scotland, Carnegie attended a Swedenborgian enclave for a while as a teenager. But until he makes the acquaintance of Hebert Spencer, he wrestles to find a philosophy that articulates his own very secular beliefs. Spencer, the apostle of "Positivism," gives Carnegie the social evolutionary hope in progress that allows him to justify his own personal success and to view the world through rose-colored glasses. When the Great War is unleashed in 1914, Carnegie's faith is crushed, he lapses into an emotional breakdown and essentially stops communicating with the world until his death in 1919. In this regard, Carnegie's "faith" is actually fairly typical; as historian Charles Cashdollar has demonstrated, most theologians found positivism to be the key intellectual challenge of the period. What we may not have as good a handle on is how Spencer's positivism translated for the man on the street, producing either the optimism of Carnegie (or Henry Ward Beecher, for that matter) or the pessimism of Mark Twain.
Still, there is probably no better introduction to Andrew Carnegie's life that Nasaw's monumental work. While a briefer (around five or six hundred pages) book would have strengthened the whole immeasurably, I found this to be a worthwhile investment of time.
Starting with Carnegie's birth in 1835 in Dunfermline, Scotland, to a linen weaver, Nasaw deftly charts the rise of this "Star Spangled Scotchman." From the time Carnegie's family emigrates to Pittsburgh when the boy was 14, Andrew was on the make--hustling from one job to the next and investing his money in companies headed by friends and guided by insider information, Carnegie would eventually be a millionaire by the time he was 35.
The key moment in his business career was when he put his "eggs in one basket," moving nearly all his capital to founding Carnegie Steel. In order to protect his steel company, Carnegie ruthlessly set out to acquire everything needed for production, including H. C. Frick Coke, and to bully others into cooperating with him, including the Pennsylvania Railroad. He was civic booster and cheerleader when he needed to be, but he was also a hard-edged business man who knew how to make others fall into line. He gained the respect of financial men on both sides of the Atlantic for the way he would carefully invest his own money and enthusiastically booster for other people's money.
Nasaw describes Carnegie's rise to financial independence well, moving the reader quickly through the first two hundred pages. Unfortunately, by the time Andrew is nearly 50, the book bogs down--it takes six hundred pages to move from 1881 to Carnegie's death in 1919. This is not to say that there isn't insight in these pages--there is: Carnegie's fairly consistent defense of international peace strategies; his attempt to develop himself into a man of letters; his support and influence in the Republican Party; his determination to carry out his "Gospel of Wealth" ideals, and especially his part in the 1892 Homestead debacle. But surely this section of Carnegie's life could have been handled in half the page amount, resulting in a crisper and more focused story.
Because he drowned the reader in the details of Carnegie's life (sections felt more like a travelogue than anything else), Nasaw missed a point to tease out aspects of his subject's personality. Though he noted Carnegie's insecurity or somewhat neurotic behavior at points, I never felt that Nasaw made those character qualities central to "Carnegie the Man." But if there was ever someone who appeared clearly to suffer from "little man's syndrome," it was Carnegie. Not only did he come close to five feet tall, but his constant name-dropping, attempts to influence national and world events, and almost messianic view of his importance to world peace all suggested a person deeply uncomfortable with himself. Yet Nasaw never really probes down into Carnegie's heart to see what is there, perhaps because he got lost in the detailed and overlong narrative.
One of the findings that particularly interested me was Carnegie's religious views. Raised in a family that had little use for their native Church of Scotland, Carnegie attended a Swedenborgian enclave for a while as a teenager. But until he makes the acquaintance of Hebert Spencer, he wrestles to find a philosophy that articulates his own very secular beliefs. Spencer, the apostle of "Positivism," gives Carnegie the social evolutionary hope in progress that allows him to justify his own personal success and to view the world through rose-colored glasses. When the Great War is unleashed in 1914, Carnegie's faith is crushed, he lapses into an emotional breakdown and essentially stops communicating with the world until his death in 1919. In this regard, Carnegie's "faith" is actually fairly typical; as historian Charles Cashdollar has demonstrated, most theologians found positivism to be the key intellectual challenge of the period. What we may not have as good a handle on is how Spencer's positivism translated for the man on the street, producing either the optimism of Carnegie (or Henry Ward Beecher, for that matter) or the pessimism of Mark Twain.
Still, there is probably no better introduction to Andrew Carnegie's life that Nasaw's monumental work. While a briefer (around five or six hundred pages) book would have strengthened the whole immeasurably, I found this to be a worthwhile investment of time.
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