A search through a new collection of books provides direction

An experience I had the other day evoked an important memory. My 14 year old nephew searched the bookshelf in my brother’s old room and pulled out two books and placed them on the dining room table.

One was The Art of War, something my nephew plans to read this summer. It’s long and detailed for his age, but I’m hopeful he can remain the attentive reader. The second work was a small coffee-table book about the mustache, complete with humor, history and images of individual styles. We enjoyed reading up on the fu manchu and the bygone days of the toothbrush mustache Hitler placed in taboo for the unforeseeable future.

But through the event, I was reminded of my brother’s death from cardiac complications as a result of living with Friedreich’s Ataxia (FA). In the final days of living, he gave me his collection of books. So I was glad to let my nephew borrow the quite beautiful hardback copy of Sun Tzu’s work.

The following day, I went back to my new book collection to find a title for my next book review. For two people who shared so many similarities, my brother and I were remarkably different. Our tastes in books reflect that. Some of the books nestled are related to my brother’s graduate degree in International Relations, and others present historical discussions on people and events while upholding a conservative political bend. As my eyes move down the shelves, I stop at a colorful book, Rise to Globalism: American Foreign Policy Since 1938, and because it’s an interesting subject, one day I may read it.

Several months before Jonathan died, I told him of my intent to quit my job as a columnist for friedreichsataxianews.com. A decision by the editor to not publish one of my articles aligning our compassionate government to the enduring influence of Christianity was enough to alienate some potential readers, at least in his mind. And even though the article related FA to the picture, the downfall was not remaining subjective in relating my experience. However, my brother didn’t want me to just quit and accept the stigma of being a quitter nor to remove myself as a valuable voice. But the thought of being restricted as a writer coupled with the rapid decline of my brother’s health created a feeling I just couldn’t shake. I quit the job.

Continuing down through the books, I notice Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy, by Eric Metaxis. Other than his most famous book, The Cost of Discipleship, this biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer was my first introduction to the man more than ten years ago. While Metaxis understands Bonhoeffer as a champion of orthodoxy, bolstering a conservative outlook, it’s quite interesting that proponents of theological liberalism do the same thing and bend the man to their side, and they have their reasons too. Every ideology has a warrior who wants a martyr on their side to stand immortalized.

As I move along, my gaze meets a thick volume, A History of Western Philosophy and Theology, by John Frame. This big black book once pointed me to the firm foundation of the divine revelation. In an illustration, Frame identifies man as irrational in accordance to the noetic effects of sin. In other words, total depravity also effects the mind, including intellect, perception and reasoning. The only rational response is to accept our inability to grasp the realities of life, and upholding the special revelation of the Scriptures as the‎ means of knowing is a grounding in rational thought. Faith in Christ does not remove dysfuction from the mind. My mind is still darkened , but there is a light that illuminates the way and guides me forward.

After passing a few more books, I finally pull out two books to read and review for my new columnist job at davidjosephriley.com. The first book is a paperback titled, The Crowd in the French Revolution, by George Rudé. The title reminds me of The Tale of Two Cities, which I read 20 years ago but will always remember. In the first chapter of the book, Charles Dickens, a masterful writer, uses the foiling technique to perfection. A barrel of red wine is tipped and spills out into the street outside of a busy tavern. The French townsfolk rush to the scene, play and splash in the red liquid, even bending down to lap it up—and of course foreshadowing the drama of the tale to follow. The French are a peculiar people, and I have often wondered the motives and passions of them in events like the Revolution.

The other book is The Whole Christ: Legalism, Antinomianism, and Gospel Assurance—Why the Marrow Controversy Still Matters, by Sinclair Ferguson. It was a surprise to find this book amongst my brother’s collection for a few reasons, and the first is that it’s outside his interest. Also the publication date is 2016, and by this time, Jonathan was in serious decline. Pleasure reading was a thing of the past for him in 2016. But the most important thing is that the book is here for me to review.

Since I am taking the month of May off from writing, the next book review will be on The Whole Christ.There was once a day when Christians pondered things like total depravity and freedom through faith in Jesus Christ. I expect Ferguson to lay out the case of the centrality of these doctrines in contemporary environment. The doctrine of Christ and His redeeming work to save the lost is still relevant.