Ron’s #49: The Summons by John Grisham

My guilty pleasure is reading John Grisham novels on vacation. Don’t judge me.

This was one of his weakest ones so far. The story tells of a young attorney (don’t they all?) who finds three million dollars cash in his recently deceased father’s office. He spends three hundred pages trying to figure out where it came from. When the big reveal happens, there is little fanfare.

Grisham has the usual cavalcade of stock characters, unrealistic dialogue, and semi-predictable plotlines, but who cares? It makes for great reading at the beach. If ever you hear that I’m teaching Grisham in my classes at school, please hold an intervention for me.

Ron’s #48: Frenchtown Summer by Robert Cormier

Robert Cormier made me a reader.

When I was in 8^th or 9^th grade, I had to read Robert Cormier’s The Chocolate War for school. Up until that time, I don’t remember reading much for fun. There was something about the story and characters that made me view reading differently. Jerry Renault was an outsider asking himself, “Do I dare disturb the universe?” and that spoke to me about the power of books. Since then, I’ve read most—not all—of Cormier’s books.

Frenchtown Summer tells of Eugene and his small town Frenchtown, a blue-collar New England town with familiar faces, ghosts, and isolation. The narrative describes this world through descriptive poetry, a vivid and memorable picture of 1960s innocence and coming-of-age. It is as powerful as Sandra Cisneros’s The House on Mango Street; in fact, this often felt a bit too similar to her story.

The was a good read, and another reminder of how one author introduced me to the joy of reading. I’m glad that Cormier disturbed my universe years ago.

Ron’s #47: Spectacular Sins by John Piper

Have you ever asked God why he allows evil in the world? Why is Satan allowed to reign?

For those familiar with John Piper’s writing, you already know that all of his books explore how God does all things for his glory. This book takes that same theme to look how even the evil in the world is used to glorify Jesus Christ in some way, without God being culpable for that sin. God is so big and glorious that all things work for good in some mysterious way.

Piper mainly looks at key evils in the Bible: Satan’s fall, Adam’s disobedience, the tower of Babel, Joseph’s casting off by his brothers into slavery, Israel asking for an earthly king, Satan entering Judas, and the murder of Jesus. As a commentary, this book is an excellent tool at showing unity of Scripture, and pointing all things to Jesus.

I do feel that the book stopped too soon, as I would have liked to see how Piper would handle how the sins and evils of the world today are “spectacular sins.” He alludes to it in his excellent introduction (in my opinion, the strongest section of the book). Our church services today pamper us away from pain and suffering, as if those cannot be used of God for His glory.

Consider this book as a powerful beginning to this difficult and important problem.

Ron’s #46: Candide by Voltaire

 

Yes, this is a rereading of a book for school, but like most books, I got more out of it on a second reading. I love this short novel of a young man’s journey through the world of sin, evil, and darkness to test preconceived theological and philosophical notions that this world is the “best of all possible worlds.”

Candide is Voltaire’s indictment on an active, benevolent God, but he ignores the important fact that without an absolute standard of what is good, how can we call anything evil? Why are all the wars, rapes, thieving, murder, and vengeance Candide experiences considered evil if there is no measuring stick to define it against an absolute good? In the words of C. S. Lewis, how can we call a line crooked without any notion of a straight line? Contrary to Voltaire’s findings, the evil and wickedness in Candide’s world point to absolutes of goodness, fairness, and honesty. If there is no God in this world, how does the atheist explain the evil? To what standard can he call rape and murder wrong if there is no ultimate goodness?

My last year’s review of Candide is found here.

Ron’s #45: Note to Self by Joe Thorn

I first heard an interview with author Joe Thorne on my favorite podcast, The White Horse Inn. Thorne talked about the concept of preaching the gospel to yourself, and wrote this book to show how we can remind ourselves what Christ has done on our behalf.

This short book is more of a devotional, with quick, two-page chapters reminding us of some aspect of the Christian life. The three sections are “The Gospel and God,” “The Gospel and Others,” and “The Gospel and You.” Chapters include:

Chapter 8: Jesus is Enough

Chapter 9: God Does Not Answer to You

Chapter 10: Be Humble in Your Theology

Chapter 16: Love Your Wife

Chapter 34: You are Proud

Chapter 35: Stop Complaining

Chapter 41: Be Careful in Your Theology

Chapter 44: Suffer Well

While I usually do not read devotional books, Note to Self  is a good one to help remind us that we are loved and were bought at a price through the blood of Christ.

Ron’s #44: Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson

Mark's excellent review is here.

I finished the last few pages of this biography in the following environment: My Apple TV played Cars streamed from my Mac that I controlled with my iPhone. All that was missing was an afternoon trip to an Apple Store somewhere. This illustrates not my dependence on technology (a topic that was addressed several other times in my reviews), but on the influence Steve Jobs has in my life. In many ways, Apple’s history is my history. Since I’m only a little older than Apple, I can connect aspects of my life with its.

I bought my first Mac in 1998 and lived in an Apple-exclusive home every since. The history of Apple and the computer industry has been a favorite topic of study over the years, and I’ve read and watched many books and movies. I have been an Apple enthusiast/evangelist for over a decade. I, like many, fell into Steve’s charismatic spell. Because of this, reading the new biography about Steve Jobs was not an option; it was an edict from within. The author, Walter Isaacson, chronicled the lives of Benjamin Franklin, Albert Einstein, and now, Steve Jobs.

Steve Jobs was a many of contradictions.

He was a billionaire, and he was a Zen Buddhist. He created beautiful products, but he lived as a minimalist. He was a charismatic man, but he was a complete jerk everyone around him. He talked about passion in life, but he largely ignored his family. He believed in design and beauty, but he ignored a Creator or Architect. He believed in eschewing the trappings of the world, but he created the prettiest ones.

Isaacson gives a multi-faceted picture of the man who popularized geek, both the good and the ugly. And there is lots of ugly. The book is fast-paced and thoroughly enjoyable, even if you were not interested in computer history. Steve Jobs is as tormented of a man as any character is a Dostoevsky novel. He wants to build great things, but he gets in his own way. He died with few close friends, but changed the technology world for the good. On one side he inspired engineers and designers under his leadership to create products that couldn’t be done, but he did this with berating, insulting, and, at times, crying. Most leaders use encouraging phrases like “Good job!” and “Impressive!” to help build up employees. Steve Jobs’s favorite line when he is shown a new design or feature is, “This is shit!” To Steve, this isn’t an insult; rather, it is a motivational tool.

What makes this book rich and deep is not just the computer history narrative, but it is also the subplots that run through the story: adoption, Steve’s estranged daughter that he denied for years, his romantic life, Bob Dylan, and Steve’s cancer. These secondary stories make Jobs more human and relatable to use non-billionaire geniuses.

While I learned much more about Apple, the one aspect that I was more surprised to discover is how much Steve Jobs really did at Apple, even in the final days. He micromanaged design, usability, packaging, commercials, color of walls, construction of new buildings and campuses, tile in Apple stores, the “floating” staircase in the stores, and even the dinner menu at events. Before I read the book, I thought that Apple would continue just fine without him. Now, after reading how he made all the decisions, I’m not so sure.

There’s so much more I want to say in praise of this book and for Steve Jobs and Apple, but I’ll save those for conversations with my geeky friends. I wish I could have it with Steve himself. Steve Jobs was one man I wanted to have dinner with someday. (Sidenote: I did have coffee with Apple’s other co-founder, Steve Wozniak. It was a great conversation with a slightly odd fellow. Read about it here). I’d love to talk about how his quest for design, order, and beauty springs from something within us, something built by an ultimate Designer. There was an interesting spiritual comment from Jobs as Yo-Yo Ma was playing his cello for an event. “You playing is the best argument I’ve ever heard for the existence of God, because I don’t really believe a human alone can do this.” After this, Jobs made Yo-Yo Ma commit to playing the cello at his funeral. Fittingly, I am listening to Ma’s Bach Cello Suites as I type this.

I know what Steve Jobs would say about this review for his biography if he were to read it:

“This is shit.”