Recent Readings: From Michael Scott to Magnificent Scrutiny

The examined life is the strenuous life, as espoused by Socrates, Theodore Roosevelt, and a host of others. While I've been throwing myself into a few theological works that I bet will be complete by the next fortnight's review post, within the last couple weeks I finished off two books having to do with thinking. Warning: One's more jovial, one's more reflective.

J. Jeremy Wisnewski, professor of philosophy at Hartwick College, has edited The Office and Philosophy, continuing the franchise of cookies-on-the-second-shelf presentation of the craft of Socrates applied to culture. In the spirit of other works connected to shows like House, Family Guy, and The Simpsons, Wisnewski and fellow thought wonks navigate through the cubicles of Dunder Mifflin. As a big fan of The Office, I was looking forward to diving into this work. For the most part, I was not disappointed.

Wisnewski and company tackle elements of both the US and UK version of the show (though heavily tilted in favor of the US by a chapter count of 16 to 6), showing how characters, plot, and dialogue unearth Dunder Mifflin's weltanschaung on topics such as love (heavily dependent on the relationship between Jim and Pam), the struggle to show empathy (Michael Scott's obliviousness), racial, sexual, and self-other issues (Scott again), business ethics (the obscene watermark episode writ large), and others. Really, to get the whole picture, you have to swallow this picnic yourself.

As philosophically engaging, I have no complaints. Wisnewski and his crew keep the chapters short and practical even if you don't agree with their first principles. One minor complaint I have is the planning of episodal illustrations. On different topics, several authors utilized the same episode or scene, and the repetition can be wearisome. There's only so many times you can draw truth from Jim's feelings for Pam, or from Michael's bumbling idiocy on "Diversity Day". Still, these occasional bumps of cogency don't ruin an otherwise enjoyable walk through a road of paper-thin morality.

The second tome, Alan Jacobs' How to Think, throws illuminating light on the life of the mind. Jacobs, who teaches in the Honors College at Baylor University, wants demonstrate that thinking is slow, it takes hard work, and there are impediments to it that we must battle every day.

Analytical power, Jacobs notes, is not enough. One must have a certain character that can take analysis, reassemble them in a way that--joined together with proper positive feeling--"can produce meaningful action" (p.43). One item that keeps us from thinking well is reliance on the "Inner Rings" in whom we find membership, which affirms our points of view to keep us from thinking, so we can demonize the Repulsive Cultural Other with whom we disagree. The chapter on "repulsions" is worth it based on the Martin Luther-Sir Thomas More exchange alone. Jacobs deftly handles how our language that we use can lead to straw man thinking ("in other words-ing"). Other highlights include Jacobs showing how no one truly has an open mind, and the demonstration that rigor and humility must go together.

Strong thinking finds its genesis in a strong moral center, and the genius of critical thinking skill is to manage what we have. Jacobs uses the analogy of a rider on an elephant. The rider (our logic) must tame the elephant (instinct/intuition).

Ah, happy me. Rumblings of C.S. Lewis in a different way in The Abolition of Man. "The head rules the belly through the chest."

If you need a primer on thinking well, Alan Jacobs is your man. In fact, if you haven't read his book, why are you still on my blog?

Recent Readings: Gracism and Ghosts

A new year means new goals for reading. The books are coming in the mail faster than I can meditate upon them, but I have managed to knock off a couple volumes so far in 2018.

David A. Anderson's Gracism blends personal experience with a phrase-by-phrase navigation through I Corinthians 12. The result--in treating people with greater honor--comes from determination to be a "gracist", one who seeks radical inclusion for the marginalized and excluded. Anderson, pastor at Bridgeway Community Church in Columbia, Maryland, frames his positive urgings around several "I will" statements flowing from Paul's letter.

Some might find a bit of Anderson's style hard to track. While the focus begins on racism--which Anderson defines, and thus I instantly respect his approach more than racial discussions that never clarify the word--Anderson does drift to lifting up a variety of people on the margins. This is helpful, but it can become hard to track the discussion. Is it about racism? Is it broader than that? Some readers will have these questions. Anderson should be commended for two primary areas of excellence: (1) He illustrates his findings from I Corinthians 12 with practical ideas and illustrative experiences, and (2) he exhibits special grace to whites who desire to be part of the discussion but may have differing ideas about how to be part of a reconciling community. He really shows a lot of class in his writing.

From racial questions to streets that dripped with the blood of the Troubles, I found that Stuart Neville's debut novel, The Ghosts of Belfast, is a serious page-turner. Excellence in crime fiction with a decidedly earthy Ulster flavor is on the platter that Neville serves up for a delicious feast. Gerry Fegan is haunted by the "followers" plaguing his memories and denying him sleep now that hostilities have cooled since the 1998 Good Friday Agreement. In a dark tale of redemption and forgiveness-seeking, Fegan must take on the sinister former IRA allies who fought alongside him in the 70s and 80s. Alcohol wracks his body and guilt buffets his soul as he resolves to kill those who ordered him in years past. 

Neville's pacing is fluid while maintaining a psychologically arresting storyline. If you don't have a working knowledge of the Troubles in Northern Ireland, you might want to brush up on the clashes between Catholic Loyalists and Protestant Unionists. The dialogue is rugged and unmistakably Irish, as demonstrated by the consistent (though not gratuitous) use of f-bombs and typical peppering of some sexual and scatological terms, and the dialogue is character-establishing in a way that respects the reader and asks much of him. The cliffhanger brings much satisfaction, although the realism of the flawed Fegan's travails brings about a bittersweet ending. The reader can both root for Fegan while maintaining sadness for his deep and abiding flaws, and that is how it should be coming from the pen of Neville. I'll definitely be checking out his other works in the Belfast Novels, and so should you.

Shoulder to Shoulder With Archangels

There is a portion of the Anglican liturgy during the season of Epiphany (which has been going on since January 6th on the Christian calendar) that I find thrilling and significant, both on a liturgy basis and as a church historian.

It comes after the offering and Doxology. The priest offers the Sursum Corda ("Lift Up Your Hearts") exchange with the congregation and then goes into an address to God as follows:

"Because in the mystery of the Word made flesh, you have caused a new light to shine in our hearts, to give the knowledge of your glory in the face of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Therefore we praise you, joining our voices with Angels and Archangels and with all the company of heaven, who forever sing this hymn to proclaim the glory of your Name."

The congregation then goes right into singing the Sanctus (a hymn that expresses God's holiness), but...hey, did you catch that underlined portion above?

You are singing with angels and archangels.

God desires you to sing with the company of heaven.

We get to boldly proclaim that we're going shoulder to shoulder with Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, and others to sing out loud.

You get to do that.

If that's the case, Psalm 8 is right.

We are crowned with glory and honor and God is worthy of our song.

That's your thought for today.