Musings, Moral and Mystical
Essays or Counsels Civil and Moral, by Francis Bacon
If you are looking for your thoughts to be provoked, you might like to pick up a copy of Francis Bacon's Essays or Counsels Civil and Moral . Written in 1625, for the purpose of educating young royalty, the essays cover 58 different subjects in concise and poetic form. Even when you find that you don't agree with some of Bacon's conclusions, you will still admire his ability to state his opinion with such brevity and art.
Many of these capsulated truths are engaging and helpful. For example, in Of Friendship, Bacon states, "...it maketh daylight in the understanding, out of darkness and confusion of thoughts. Neither is this to be understood only of faithful counsel, which a man receiveth from his friend; but before you come to that, certain it is that whosoever hath his mind fraught with many thoughts, his wits and understanding do clarify and break up, in the communicating and discoursing with another; he tosseth his thoughts more easily, he marshalleth them more orderly; he seeth how they look when they are turned into words: finally, he waxeth wiser than himself; and that more by an hour's discourse than by a day's meditation." How true! This is good stuff.
Another book that affords capsulated truths to benefit from and meditate on is Blaise Pascal's Pensees. Here the reader is exposed to the thoughts of the great mathematician and apologist. A contemporary of Francis Bacon, Pascal's writing is more spiritual in nature whereas Bacon's is more natural. Read them both and you will see what I mean. To whet your appetite, here is a sample of Pascal's thought: Pensee #58, "How frustrated we are when we have to give up occupations or pursuits to which we are attached! A man may enjoy life at home, but he has only to see a woman who attracts him, or to escape for a few days' diversion, and you will find him unsettled and miserable at having to return to his normal way of life. This happens every day."
As you can imagine, the contents of these books are great conversation stimulators. I have had the privilege of doing just that with a couple of friends in the past. We both bought the books and would then meet at a set time to discuss, refute, defend, or unpack what we had understood these bright lights to say. This mental exercise was always worthwhile and fulfilling. You feel like you are hearkening back to the days when everyone had a working knowledge of the classics and could discuss them and apply them to contemporary life. These days all we tend to have in common is the knowledge of particular TV commercials. Not good. Anyway, both are good for quick reading and a lot better than any of those "Chicken Soup" books.
Spinning in Infinity
Angels in the Architecture, by The Dougs, Wilson and Jones
Jesus, we are told, is the first fruit of the new creation. He looks like what eternity looks like. Some would suggest that there's about as much time gap between that first fruit and the next as there once was between my first egg and my next, that the next fruit harvest will have to wait until the end of the time. Luke, I believe, thought otherwise. The book of Acts is the beginning of the story of the work of Christ in redeeming all things, in banishing the old, and bringing in the new. It is the beginning of the story of the re-creation of a whole new world.
That new world, like a small child, has its good and bad moments. Sometimes it tastes like the sweet new fruit as in the time of the Puritans; sometimes it smells like fruit well past its time, as in our day. There is, however, a pattern of growth, interspersed with backward steps. The difficulty is that too often, because we are moving backward and have our bearings off, we confuse real progress with regress. We think we're moving forward, while all the time the back-up lights are on. Thus we have taken to calling the glory of the Middle Ages the Dark Ages, and the folly of what followed the glory of the Enlightenment. Two Dougs disagree. In Angels in the Architecture our friends in Moscow, Jones and Wilson do something no one asked them to do, defend the Middle Ages. They do so as an aid to understanding what kingdom building looks like, affirming that such is both heavenly minded, and earthly good. The faith in the Middle Ages wasn't all libertine pontiffs and clerics on the take. Neither was it reduced to academic sophistry or mystical solipsism. Instead Christ in that time birthed a vibrant faith that inspired hearts, minds and hands.
The Middle Ages, far from being dark, were perhaps the height of a careful, biblically grounded world view. The architecture, far from excessive local boosterism, was instead a sign for all to see that we exist for the purpose of worship, and worshipping a God who towers over all things. Political structures were what they were not as fruit of cynical power brokering, but as an affirmation of the hierarchy of the universe. Everyone, from the king down to the local magistrate, understood that his authority rested neither on the will of the people, nor on the authority of might, but on the authority of the one true King. And the labor of the common man was done as unto the Lord, as ordinary men exercised dominion over the land God had given them, serving as husbands over God's good creation.
Angels in the Architecture, however, is more than a history book. Instead it provides a glimpse of what true kingdom building looks like in any day. It serves, humbly, as a blueprint for continuing to grow the new creation. And as with almost all the books I review in this column, and as with all the books of Wilson and Jones, this one is a joy to read. It is published by Canon Press.