Archive for the ‘Books’ Category.
A Skete’s Library?
My brother and friend dunefan (aka PenguinBoy) tagged me for this meme, and I am happy to spread it on. The blog is just this question: “If you could only take 5 books of yours somewhere what would they be?”
Well, that’s a difficult question due to its size limitation. But after some reflection, these would be my choices:
1. A Spanish Reina-Valera Bible or an ESV English Bible. If I could get one of those in the USB Study Bible format it would be better.
2. A Spanish version of Aquinas’ Summa Theologica. I prefer the Spanish version since Spanish is closer to Latin.
3. Wolfhart Pannenberg’s three-volume Systematic Theology.
4. Abraham Kuyper’s To Be Near Unto God.
5. J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings.
Note: I may substitute one of #2-5 for the Book of Common Prayer (a classic edition, not a modern one).
I invite everyone interested in joining this meme.
Final Article on Kant in Paraguayan Newspaper
Today the third and last part of my Kant series appeared on the Paraguayan newspaper ABC Color. You can see it in Spanish in the newspaper’s website here. You can see a better formatted version at my website, too. I hope that my writing could be well-received in the Paraguayan cultural environment.
Books
This is a book meme that is making the rounds on the blogosphere. I got it from The Hermitage (formerly known as The Cloister/dunefan/PenguinBoy). I am buried on work but I simply couldn’t resist this one.
- A book that made you cry: J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings. I have to confess it: I cannot help but cry not only in the last moments of the book, but also when I read about the Rohirrim riding to their certain death at the battle in the outskirts of Minas Tirith.
- A book that scared you: C. Everett Koop and Francis Schaeffer, Whatever Happened To The Human Race? That did the job. It scared me witless like no spooky story could. The human heart is capable to reach such unfathomable depths of evil that raises my hair.
- A book that made you laugh: Donald R. Morris, Warm Bodies. I got it in the form of the Reader’s Digest Condensed Books, vol. 4 1957. According to the only review on Amazon:
This warm-hearted comic novel about a Lieutenant (junior grade) in the peacetime US Navy of the 1950s should be back in print, it is a minor classic of its time and place. [... T]he book has a wonderful charm and it’s filled with rueful stories about the Navy that will ring true with anyone who’s ever been in the service–or been in love, because it is a pretty good love story too.
- A book that disgusted you: Most novels by the Paraguayan writer Gabriel Casaccia. He had a strong erotic fixation on older women, and his books were required reading in high school. I remember one where a 65 year-old woman plotted to involve herself in an affair with a teenager. Being myself a teenager at that particular time, I found that disgusting and revulsive.
- A book you loved in elementary school: Edmondo de Amicis, Cuore. This was the first book I ever owned. It was a very special present for my 8th birthday from my beloved Aunt Virginia. It was a huge hardcover edition, and my aunt wrote a beautiful dedication in her delicate handwriting. I still have the book with me and I regard it as one of my special treasures. On the other hand, I also loved some encyclopedias, like this one.
- A book you loved in middle school: There were several, but one of the ones I remember fondly was the book by German ethologist Vitus B. Dröscher, Sobrevivir: La gran lección del Reino Animal (Survival : The Great Lesson of the Animal Kingdom). Another great book was a gem by another German ethologist, Herbert Wendt, El descubrimiento de los animales : de la leyenda del unicornio hasta la etología (The Discovery of Animals: From the Legend of the Unicorn to Ethology)
- A book you loved in high school: Garrett Hardin, Biology: Its Principles and Implications. I know very well what Garrett Hardin stands for, and I thoroughly disagree with his convictions. However, the late Hardin wrote what only could be regarded as a superb textbook, filled with insight, reflection, and excellent prose that stood even its Spanish translation. I loved it; and I read it for leisure!
- A book you loved in college: Tom Clancy, Red Storm Rising. This is just too well known
. - A book that challenged your identity or your faith: That would be the book byu Joseph Zacchello, Secrets of Romanism. This is the book that convinced me to leave the Roman Catholic Church and join the Reformation. Today this book is continuously lambasted in Roman Catholic apologetic circles, but what it said was thoroughly true of the Roman Catholic Church at the time of its writing, and I didn’t see too much of a change for the positive at the time of my leaving.
- A series that you love: I usually don’t read serial books, but if you can count it as a series, I really dig the “Jack Ryan” saga from Tom Clancy.
- Your favorite horror book: I don’t read horror books; but I liked the short story There Are More Things (English version) by Jorge Luis Borges.
- Your favorite science-fiction book: Dune by Frank Herbert.
- Your favorite mystery book: I don’t have any (yet…)
- Your favorite biography: St. Augustine, The Confessions.
- Your favorite coming-of-age book: It’s difficult to single out one. I remember reading Summer of ’42, but I didn’t like it much.
- Your favorite book not on this list: Jacques Barzun, From Dawn to Decadence: 500 Years of Western Cultural Life 1500 to the Present. This is a superb book! The writing is one of a kind, and the clarity of exposition and insights of Professor Barzun are just amazing.
As you have seen, I didn’t have much to say on some categories, because my readings tend to go more to the essay/argumentative side rather than the narrative. But all in all this is a great meme, and thus I would like to gently tug some great friends of mine into doing this meme. Of course, anyone could feel free to participate. Enjoy!
Updates on the Home Front
Moving On with Moving. Things have been quite busy around here lately. I continue to be very busy at work, and that is also true of my wife. At the end of the day, we both crash our bed quite exhausted. But we should be happy that both of us have jobs in a country with unemployment figures totally out of control; and I am grateful.
One of our constant sources of concerns is our house. We rented a house one month before our wedding, and that house has been our home until now. However, my landlord asked us to vacate the house on July 7th (that’s right; on today’s date) because he wanted his daughter to live there, so we went off looking for a house to rent. Thankfully, our landlord is understanding, and he is graciously letting us continue the renting agreement over that deadline if we do not found a suitable house… but I do not want to wear out that courtesy.
After a very tiresome search, we found some promising houses, and we are right now in the process of applying for a rental. The paperwork is cumbersome, so I have to be patient.
Please pray that we could find a good house, that the Lord could provide us the resources to make the necessary amends and improvements to the house, and that all this transition –including the moving– could proceed well.
At the Book Fair. My wife and I went last Sunday to the Libroferia, or Book Fair. This is an annual event sponsored by the Paraguayan Chamber of Booksellers and Publishing Houses (CAPEL). The place was packed, and it was rewarding to see so much people interested in reading. However, the disappointing note was the fact that most books were on subjects that fell on roughly four areas: (1) Self-Help; (2) Esoterism/Mysticism; (3) Marxism/Communism; and (4) Marketing/Commerce/Business. Well, at least this is a begninning.
Computing bits. I noticed that OpenOffice.org 2.0.3 has been released. Since the download for i386 GNU/Linux is a whopping 120M, I have to exercise quite a bit of patience… In the meanwile, the grapevine is buzzing with rumours of the imminent release of Slackware 11.0. Let’s see what happens in the next few days.
On the Interpretation of Ecclesiastes: Approaching the book
When one opens the Ecclesiastes, one might perceive that one is looking at a book that is totally different from other books in the Bible. That’s right; Ecclesiastes is unique and unmatched in so many counts. Because of this, it is my contention that we must employ an approach that pays respect to the peculiarities of the books.
On the other hand, Ecclesiastes is a book written by God as his Author, and He inspired it for our benefit and understanding. Therefore, the most important point of approaching the Ecclesiastes is precisely that: to open the book, read it, meditate on it, and make it part of our lives.
Taking all this into account, and after years of reading this fascinating book, I would like to submit to your consideration the following guidelines for an interpretation of Ecclesiastes:
1. First of all, this is a book whose message should be known. Therefore, read it! Read it one, two, three, one thousand times… but read it. It is God’s word for us.
2. This is a book of philosophy. Ecclesiastes is, first and foremost, a philosopher’s book with a honest, open account of this person’s search for ultimate truth and meaning in the universe. You might find some statements that are apparently contradictory; these are steps in a philosopher’s reasoning.
A cursory reading of this book will make it apparent that the author was considering questions of teleology, natural theology and theodicy, ethics and deontology, metaphysics and, especially, antropology, and all of those are given a treatment that is surprisingly contemporary and accessible.
A corollary of this point is that if this is a book of philosophy written by a philosopher and if this is a sacred book inspired by God and part of the Holy Bible, then we find that philosophy is an intellectual endeavor approved by God.
3. This is a book intended for the benefit of teenage boys. The only place where you could get an education in the Ancient Near East was in the court scribal schools. Those were schools where the male children of court bureaucrats were trained in the court business. Nevertheless to say, most of the Wisdom literature originated in this way. Thus, this is a book written for young people, dealing with things of interest to young ones, and accessible to them.
4. This is not a misogynist book. Some people have thought that Ecclesiastes is a misogynist or chauvinist book, because it warns against “the woman whose heart is snares and nets, and whose hands are fetters” (Ecclesiastes 7:25-28 [show]Ecclesiastes 7:25-28
[25]I turned my heart to know and to search out and to seek wisdom and the scheme of things, and to know the wickedness of folly and the foolishness that is madness. [26]And I find something more bitter than death: the woman whose heart is snares and nets, and whose hands are fetters. He who pleases God escapes her, but the sinner is taken by her. [27]Behold, this is what I found, says the Preacher, while adding one thing to another to find the scheme of things-- [28]which my soul has sought repeatedly, but I have not found. One man among a thousand I found, but a woman among all these I have not found. (ESV)
). That might be a somewhat serious charge, unless one thinks of the intended purpose of the book. That’s right: in a book meant for teenage boys, what would you expect?
This is nothing more than a warning against entering into a dangerous and destructive sexual relationship. I am certain that if the book was written for young women, we would be reading “beware of men, they are all mean and evil and they want just one thing from you” or something similar. How many times have the ladies complained about men, about how they are all the same, and so on? A woman reading Ecclesiastes 7:25-29 [show]Ecclesiastes 7:25-29
[25]I turned my heart to know and to search out and to seek wisdom and the scheme of things, and to know the wickedness of folly and the foolishness that is madness. [26]And I find something more bitter than death: the woman whose heart is snares and nets, and whose hands are fetters. He who pleases God escapes her, but the sinner is taken by her. [27]Behold, this is what I found, says the Preacher, while adding one thing to another to find the scheme of things-- [28]which my soul has sought repeatedly, but I have not found. One man among a thousand I found, but a woman among all these I have not found. [29]See, this alone I found, that God made man upright, but they have sought out many schemes. (ESV)
could invert the sexes of the passage and profit from the reading.
5. This is a talk about “the facts of life.” In my opinion, the best way to approach this book is to regard it as an extended talk about “the facts of life” especially for young boys. Just look at some of the things dealt with in this book: politics, administration, work ethics, friendship, the future, sex, money… and God. Those are things an older and wiser parent or teacher who has “been there, done that” would discuss with any young boy placed under his care in order to instill wisdom in him.
Kant Paper in Paraguayan Daily, Part Two
If you have read this recent post, then you might be interested to learn that the second part of my paper on Kant has been published in the Paraguayan newspaper ABC Color. You can read the second part in Spanish from the newspaper’s website here.
Upcoming articles
Two “big” posts are getting ready in the qeue: the first one is a book review (that is, the second one of my vacation series) and the other is more like a position paper discussing a possible interpretative approach to the wisdom books and Ecclesiastes. The latter one will be preceded by a smaller article, where I will summarize my position, and I expect to put this one, if possible, today.
Hope to see you soon, then…
Continental Philosophy since 1750: A Review
Robert C. Solomon. Continental Philosophy since 1750: The Rise and Fall of the Self. No. 7 in the series A History of Western Philosophy. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988. 214+vii pp.
This book was in the list of recommended readings for the course “God and the World in Modern Panentheism” that Professor John Cooper taught at Calvin Theological Seminary. I had the privilege of attending those lectures; and I can say without a doubt that one of the greatest benefits were the list of suggested readings. I bought the book; but besides the prescribed pages for the course, I never had the time or disposition to read it through. It struck me, however, as a history of philosophy that was graced with the unusual traits of good and interesting style, humor, and clarity of ideas. It became one of those books that you always meant to read, but simply don’t have the required quality time to do it.
However, this was about to change. When the time came to go to the small town of Piribebuy for our vacation, I couldn’t even think of bringing the computer with me. Doing otherwise would mean grounds for divorce to my wife! And so, I brought with me a pile of books that were in the reading qeue and yes, Solomon got his say heard (or better, read) by me.
Professor Robert C. Solomon (Wikipedia bio) is a scholar with a distinguished and prolific career. He is Quincy Lee Professor at the University of Texas, and his interests lie in the areas of Enlightenment and Post-Enlightenment Continental Philosophy (especially the Romantics and Nietzsche), the ethics of love, and spirituality. As I can tell from the title of a fairly recent book, his spiritual beliefs could be labeled as naturalistic-secularistic-mystical.
The undertaking of Professor Solomon is certainly ambitious in scope: cover all of non-British European philosophy since 1750 to our days, explaining the thought of towering figures such as Kant, Hegel, Marx, Heidegger, Sartre, and Wittgenstein, and many others. It is also ambitious in its size: a book that barely goes over 200 pages. Was Professor Solomon up to the task?
Well, the answer is: “It depends.”
Solomon presents his account as the unfolding of an unifying theme: the rise and fall of the Self. But this is not, as Solomon makes clear in the Prologue and the Introduction, not an ordinary self: this is the Self, the transcendental self, something that ultimately encompasses everything, and gives any man the right to project the structures of his own mind to everything. This pretence is called “the transcendental pretence” by Solomon.
Writing always with that theme in mind, Solomon chronicles the thinking of leading philosophers in a concise, clear, and interesting way. He has a great talent for explaining very arcane or convoluted philosophical systems in plain language, and he does so with tact and good humor. Solomon tries to be fair to all philosophers he studies here, and he generally succeeds. And not only that: despite the fact that he is a secularist writing about the Enlightenment and its offshoots, I perceive a friendly and respectful attitude towards Christianity. All of these traits make this book a great one.
However, Solomon also leaves quite a bit to be desired, and I am afraid he might not be entirely right in some of his viewpoints.
1. At first, choosing “The Rise and Fall of the Self” as a theme for Enlightenment and Post-Enlightenment philosophy might be appropriate. I can see the reasons for that, especially after Kant, Fichte and Schopenhauer. But, is that right or not? Is it true that the transcendental pretence is a product of the combined forces of humanism, universalism and rationality that were gaining currency since Descartes? Maybe. Maybe Professor Solomon is right. However, something in my head told me that this didn’t looked quite right.
A few days after finishing Solomon’s book, I found this in Wolfhart Pannenberg’s Systematic Theology and immediately knew I found the missing link in Solomon’s chain of thought:
… when understood in this way [as something in accordance to human nature], natural theology could commend a form of knowledge of God that is compatible with us and our human nature. [...] After the disastrous religious wars the conflicting claims to revelation which the different parties made seemed to be mere assertions of tradition, and since the religious truth claims discredited one another it seemed best to look to what is natural to us as the basis of a new social order and culture. In this regard the Enlightenment was certain that what corresponds to human nature truly corresponds to God, God being also the Creator of humanity and human reason.
(Wolfhart Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, vol. I, transl. G.W. Bromiley, chap 2., §2, pp. 81f. [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991].)
There it is! The trascendental pretence came as a project of analogical rational theology that suddenly changed the analogical for the ontological. The transcendental pretence was something ridiculously arrogant (and Solomon rightly recognizes it as such), but it wasn’t just the product of deranged minds with oversized egos, or merely the child of the Kerberos of humanism, rationality and unversalism. It was, more than anything else, an exercise of natural theology, an attempt to know God by sola ratio, by reason alone; and moreover, it was a reaction against the quarreling and dull dogmatism of the late Baroque Protestant Scholasticism and the horror of the Thirty Years War. It is remarkable that the two main offshoots of that war were marked by an inward turn: the Enlightenment, with the universal projection of the inner self as trascendental, and Pietism, with the turning of an universal belief into something private and internal. Solomon fails to recognize the importance of the question of God for the whole Enlightement and what came later.
2. I understand the severe size constraints that Professor Solomon had to have in mind when writing this book. However, it seems that despite his attempts, some of the coverage is extremely superficial and totally inadequate to get even the minimum appropriate grasp on some philosophers’ ideas. The explanations of Husserl and the whole phenomenological movement (because phenomenology is something phenomenally complex per se), Wittgenstein and logical positivism, and the “post-moderns” such as Foucault or Derrida, are sorely disappointing. The worst case is, in my opinion, that of Kant: Solomon devoted a whole chapter to him, and yet, you might have finished it without even knowing what is meant by an “synthetic apriori proposition”, which is essential to understand Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason.
3. In keeping with the size constraints, one finds strange omissions. This is supposed to be a treatise on Continental philosophy, but all that manages to be is a study on Franco-German thinkers. Despite its designation as Continental, there is zero mention of other Continental philosophies, such as Spanish or Italian philosophy. Of course, they might not be so important in the overall development of the history of philosophy; but you just cannot pass over names of the caliber of Ortega y Gasset, Unamuno, Zubiri or Marías in Spain, or Benedetto Croce in Italy, in a study of Continental philosophy. I find this omission myopic, and typical of the navel-gazing of too much of American scholarship, for whom the only languages of Continental Europe are French and German.
4. Finally, and sadly, one can see Professor Solomon rightly criticizing the transcendental pretence as “a political weapon of enormous power” (p.6-7), denouncing how it was employed to justify racism, exploitation, and oppresion, an effort to prove there one legitimate set of beliefs in ethics, politics and religion. It is amusing to see such criticism from someone who doesn’t have any qualms to employ some awkward sentence structures in the name of “inclusive language”. Solomon might not share the transcendental pretence, but he still thinks he can also impose his own set of beliefs on the unsuspecting victim that is the English language. His criticism of Enlightenment arrogance, while correct and justified, in my opinion reeks of political correctness.
Those points notwhitstanding, I find two redeeming qualities in this book that put it above the rest and warrant my commendation:
1. Solomon writes with unusual insight and –in general– he has the rare talent of capturing the thought of a philosopher and deliver it in a very accessible nutshell. His summary of Hegelian tought is brilliant. His study of the philosophy of Nietzsche is the best and the clearest I’ve ever seen, going beyond Nietzche the “provocateur” to unfold Nietzsche’s philosophy with uncommon ability and understanding.
But Solomon’s insight is at his best in little things scattered here and there. You can learn that the logic of dialectic was set forth firstly by Schelling, and then by Hegel; that Sartre began as a hard-core phenomenologist and that this informed all of his thought; or how Heidegger was rooted in Husserl’s thinking. Here is proof that Solomon’s ability for discerning the nuances of the different schools of thought is insightful and perceptive.
2. The best thing about this “history of philosophy” book is, however, that it succeeds. A good history of philosophy should give its readers the desire to go to the primary sources. And, independently of Solomon’s good or bad traits, this book does one thing really well: It makes you wish really hard to go out and read the philosophers studied there. Believe me, anything that makes you wish to read Kant, Hegel, Merleau-Ponty, Heidegger and Gadamer, has to be really good. And Solomon doesn’t give you a wish; he gives you an urge.
My verdict? If you can live with the objections I’ve raised here, I do recommend this book.
A (very late) Book Meme
Tim tagged me for a book meme some ages ago. Dialup and time crunch prevented me again from doing this before; but here it is at last:
- How many books have I owned? Well, I don’t have an exact figure, but I think I’ve owned or own around a thousand books. As Tim, my collection is slowly growing because I also don’t think that getting rid of books is apropriate.
- What was the last book you bought? That’s an extremely difficult question, because after coming back to Paraguay I had to forsake completely the buying of new books due to financial reasons. I honestly don’t remember when I bought the last one. Since my comeback I’ve gotten a lot of new books, but only as gifts or as part of supplies given by an employer. Perhaps one of my last book purchases was a set of Tom Clancy novels in a discount book store back in Grand Rapids, a little over three years ago.
- Last book that you’ve read: The last book I’ve finished is Trevayne, a novel by Robert Ludlum. It’s good entertainment, but nothing else. Meanwhile, I’m reading Discusión, Inquisiciones, y Otras Inquisiciones by Jorge Luis Borges, the Iliad of Homer in the version of Alexander Pope, some essays by C.S. Lewis, and the Systematic Theology, vol. I, by Wolfhart Pannenberg.
- Five books that have meant a lot to you: Here they are, in no particular order. Disclaimer: The Bible and portions thereof are omitted; if it weren’t so, this blog post would be “Biblically monotonic”.
- El Aleph and any prose by Jorge Luis Borges: Borges is such a master of letters! Before him, I thought I would never try writing seriously; I thought writing was for people who could write exceedingly well. But Borges had a way to express himself in brilliant, flawless Spanish (believe me, you just have to read him in the original) and yet he did so with the utmost clarity and concision. His prose look effortless, yet perfect. He convinced me to write. The facts that he was, perhaps, one of the most learned men known by our Western civilization, a man from Latin America and a country neighboring mine, and someone extraordinarily conversant with the Bible were all bonuses. Borges is my measure of a writer.
- St. Thomas Aquinas, Collationes super Credo in Deum. Some part of my personal history that few people know is that prior to my conversion I was a Roman Catholic, and for some time a numerary member of the Opus Dei to boot. While I was in the Opus Dei I discovered a little book [St. Thomas Aquinas, Escritos de Catequesis, Josep--Ignasi Saranyana, ed. (Madrid:, 1978, 2nd. ed.)], and the first work in it was Aquinas’ exposition on the Apostolic Symbol. This small, beautiful work from Aquinas opened my mind in several ways. It showed me that philosophy and theology could be beautiful. It showed me that good thinking shouldn’t be complicated. It showed me what I finally wanted to be: a Christian philosopher and theologian who could perhaps one day advance the state of knowledge of these disciplines for the glory of God, and yet being simple and understandable enough that any interested person could grasp what I was saying.
Nowadays I have in my personal library the same work in another edition, edited by the same J.I. Saranyana (St. Thomas Aquinas. Obras catequéticas. Pamplona: Eunate, 1995). I am very fond of it
- Zacharias Ursinus and Caspar Olevianus, The Heidelberg Catechism (several editions). When I first opened the little booklet of the Catechism and saw that beautiful Question 1, I was struck thinking, “hey, is that theology? I could use this for my devotional!” And then it dawned to me that such a distinction was artificial and moot. The Heidelberg Catechism showed me the way of being a Christian theologian and philosopher: first and foremost for the glory of God, and the standard for all Christian theology and philosophy was how much it pointed to a deeper life in God, full of personal and communal piety. I use the Catechism with joy and profit to this day.
- Some Natural Sciences encyclopaedia. A favorite part of my childhood was spent leafing through the four massive, leather-bound volumes of a Natural Sciences encyclopaedia. When I couldn’t read yet, I wondered about the wonderful full-color, beautifully drawn illustrations of plants, animals and things that I saw daily at home, and wondered about them. And additionally, there were an number of animals and things so strange and wonderful that filled me with awe and curiosity. When I began to read, I devoured the four volumes time after time. That encyclopaedia is now lost, even to the extent that I cannot recall the exact title nor the authors; but that encyclopaedia was one of the books that made me a reader. For that I also have to thank my parents, who weren’t afraid to place a massive, and obviously expensive, book into my childish hands.
- Jürgen Moltmann, The Crucified God. Although Moltmann is not someone who has my full agreement on most things, this book really changed the way I did theology. Moltmann showed me some of the unfathomable depths of the mysteries of Christ’s death on the cross, and showed me also who God’s truth cannot be constrained by human thinking. It taught me humilty and realism in my theological reflection; and for that I am grateful. The book was written about 30 years ago, and it is still fresh, and still inviting to reflection now.
- Tag five people that haven’t played yet. I am sorry, Tim; but I think now it is too late and most people had already answered to this. But I would be happy to tag anyone who volunteers, though
A Stench in the Nostrils of Civilization
The image you see at the right is a portrait of Ford Hendrickson, an independent missionary who worked in Venezuela first, and then in Paraguay. He was born on September 11, 1875 in Richland County, Ohio (U.S.); the date of his passing is unknown to me.
Back in the day, I dug into the library of a classmate who was member of a Plymouth Brethren congregation; somehow she got into her library the papers of Mr. Joseph G. Martin, a New Zealander who established the denomination in Paraguay. Among Martin’s papers there was Hendrickson’s missionary autobiography were he described his endeavors. I found particularly striking his account of how he became motivated to do missionary work in Paraguay:
While in North America we had read an article on Paraguay in which the writer had written in rough language describing its poverty, diseases and wretchedness, and closed the article about as follows: “Paraguay, thou art a stench in the nostrils of civilization; the sooner you are disintegrated and divided and governed by better civilized countries, the better it will be for your people and civilization”. After reading this extreme verdict I suggested to Mrs. Hendrickson that if Paraguay was in such a needy condition, we should locate there. From this article and information gathered from other sources we decided to locate our work and general headquarters in Paraguay.
Taking passage on a river boat bound for Asunción, we sailed up the La Plata River to where the Parana and Paraguay Rivers join then up the Paraguay to Asunción, arriving about the first of September, 1928. Within one month we purchased the mission compound and repaired the entire property so that we could begin general work about the first of February, 1929.
Quote taken from the autobiography of Ford Hendrickson, The “Livingstone” of the Orinoco (Interior of South America): the Life Story of Ford Hendrickson, Pioneer, Missionary, Explorer (Wauseon, OH: Publishers of The “Livingstone” of the Orinoco, 1942), pp. 192–193.
I found this fascinating; and I would appreciate any hint about the provenance of the quote.
Like a Kid in a Candy Store
A certain ministry with close ties to my church decided one day that they would print a church-planting manual produced in-house. Since the existing manual was a sorry mess, it was decided that we would re-type the whole book. I was entrusted with the task of design and typesetting.
Naturally, I decided to use LaTeX for the task, feeling that it was the best system for the task (no, honey, neither OpenOffice.org nor MS Word *argh* would do it). I was right, and in no time I was able to produce excellent camera-ready copies of sample chapters. For those who do not know what LaTeX is, here is a description: “LaTeX is a high-quality typesetting system, with features designed for the production of technical and scientific documentation. LaTeX is the de facto standard for the communication and publication of scientific documents.”
(From the above linked website; more information here.)
The problem was that LaTeX documentation, or at least the freely available type, was scattered, fragmented, and not very easy to reference. Therefore, I asked Rev S. if we could purchase some manuals. I explained him the purpose of those manuals. Thanks to Rev S. willingness to get documentation, I was able to purchase the book set by Frank Mittelbach et al., The LaTeX Companions, Revised Boxed Set, The: A Complete Guide and Reference for Preparing, Illustrating, and Publishing Technical Documents, 2nd Edition (Boston: Addison-Wesley, 2004) from amazon.com at a very good discounted price.
Oh my. This was pure candy. I felt like a thief, having all those excellent books for a comparatively low price. One of the books included there was that of Helmut Kopka and Patrick W. Daly, Guide to LaTeX, 4th ed.. This book took the place of “introductory material” in the book set. I wondered how useful it could be. Would it be too ‘introductory’? Would it be too ‘reference-like’? It turned out the answer to both questions is “yes”.
This is a book that serves as an excellent starting point for LaTeX. It present a great discussion of every major aspect of the system, along with many tricks that stem from the experience of the authors. Even though it is introductory, the Guide is no tutorial. (If you need a great LaTeX tutorial, check out the excellent, brief and comprehensive book by Tobias Oetiger, The Not So Short Introduction to LaTeX2e, freely available in several formats.) I approached the book as a LaTeX user, with specific questions in mind about how could I do this or that task in LaTeX, and I was rewarded. But it does not exclude new users; only, again, bear in mind that this is no tutorial.
The writing style is concise and terse; perhaps too terse in some parts. I missed better descriptions in areas such as the fancyhdr package, and fonts. But I felt that I could quickly solve the ambiguities I perceived by coding example documents and testing, and I was right.
All in all, this book, at 597 pages, is good value for your money and even more so if you get it as a part of the book set. Recommended for all, essential to LaTeXnicians. Now, excuse me, I’ll have some more candy…
James Leo Garrett and Sola Scriptura
One day, wandering through the old Paraguayan Baptist Theological Seminary library, I picked a copy of a book almost in mint-condition: Systematic Theology: Biblical, Historical, and Evangelical by Professor James Leo Garrett, Jr. This was an author signed and dedicated copy of Volume I, First Edition. At that time, the book was published by Eerdmans; now, in its second edition, is published by D&F Scott Publishing, whose cover is the one you’re seeing at the top left.
All in all, Professor Garrett did an outstanding job. Even though I have, somehow, an unconscious prejudice against works of dogmatics made by my own church tradition (shades of Matthew 10:36?), Professor Garrett is to be thoroughly commended. I was impressed the most for his minute attention to detail, his painstaking, detailed, relevant and current research, and his fine analytical mind. In other words, this big two-volume book would be a welcome addition to any person interested in Protestant dogmatics.
More so, Professor Garrett has to his credit that he is consciously abandoning the path trodden by E.Y. Mullins in The Christian Religion in its Doctrinal Expression, where Mullins subjected Christian theology to the categories of the pragmatism of William James and the personalism of Borden Parker Bowne’s Boston School. Instead, Garrett tries a simpler approach that is closer to the Bible without the encumbrance offered by the “varieties of religious experience”.
Garrett’s discussion of revelation is in Part I of his first volume. Here the usual breadth in scholarship is present, although it is here that Garrett’s main mistake does show. He tries to survey different views on the theology of revelation held by different traditions of Christianity and shows a remarkable degree of competence in doing so; but the analytical categories employed are totally flawed.
The problem lies when Garrett tries to ascertain the criteria of revelation. He expounds several positions, and sola Scriptura among them, and mostly in the usual sense. But when he comes to discuss the criteria employed by the different traditions, he introduces something new: suprema Scriptura. According to Garrett, sola Scriptura denotes that the Bible is the one and only source of revelation, while suprema Scriptura is reserved for those traditions who, while using varying degrees of human traditions and customs, hold the Holy Bible as the normative source.
That might sound nice, but then I wondered, and I’m still doing it now after all these years, how it could be so, because this is not what sola Scriptura ever meant. Reformed confessions such as the Belgic confession are very clear in their statements (see articles 2, 3, 5 and 7): God makes Himself known through several ways, but the only way that can be deemed as “holy and canonical for the regulation, foundation, and confirmation of our faith” and “that all that man must believe in order to be saved is sufficiently taught therein.” But yet, as Calvin says,
[I]t may here be proper to declare, that I approve of those human constitutions only which are founded on the authority of God, and derived from Scripture, and are therefore altogether divine.
[...]
But as in external discipline and ceremonies, he has not been pleased to prescribe every particular that we ought to observe, (he [the Lord] foresaw that this depended on the nature of the times, and that one form would not suit all ages,) in them we must have recourse to the general rules which he has given, employing them to test whatever the necessity of the Church may require to be enjoined for order and decency. Lastly, as he has not delivered any express command, because things of this nature are not necessary to salvation, and, for the edification of the Church, should be accommodated to the varying circumstances of each age and nation, it will be proper, as the interest of the Church may require, to change and abrogate the old, as well as to introduce new forms.
(Institutes, IV: x,30 — Beveridge translation)
That is, the proper understanding of sola Scriptura does not exclude human traditions or customs on a prima facie basis. Human traditions might be used, and even with great profit, and still have the Word of God as the sole rule of faith and practice. From the use of the Latin phrase, sola Scriptura is suprema Scriptura. The distinction is moot.
So, where does Garrett make his mistake? I think the problem is that he is confused, and the confusion is double:
- First of all, I think that Professor Garrett confuses the sources of theology with the sources of revelation. Theology is human reflection upon God, with the aid and guide of divine revelation as its normative principle. This might imply that sometimes human thoughts about God are also sources of theology, and indeed they are; but obviously they are not going to define Christian beliefs. Professor Garrett, I think, treats sources of theology as sources of revelation and hence the mistake. Said in another way: Scripture is not the only source of theology; but it is the only normative principle.
- Additionally, is my opinion that Professor Garrett fails to distinguish the differences between general and special revelation. Again, the Belgic Confession tells us that God reveals Himself by two means: one, by Scripture (special revelation) and by “the creation, preservation, and government of the universe” (Article 2). That is, to recognize any kind of revelation outside Scripture would trigger Garret’s category of suprema Scriptura
Now, why did Garrett employed this false distinction? I don’t know, but I might offer a conjecture. Garrett might have done so because he is favorably disposed towards those traditions more in line with the so-called “radical reformation” (such as the Anabaptist churches). These Christians wanted to use Scripture not only as their only normative principle, but also as their only source of theological reflection. If one accepts the false sola/suprema dichotomy, then the traditions of the “radical reformation” might appear as better or more faithful heirs of the Protestant Reformation than those traditions of the “magisterial reformation”, such as the Lutheran and Reformed churches.
Or, perhaps, he just made a mistake and did not realize it.
The Bible, English Standard Version
As an Hispanic Christian, my spiritual life was and is still being shaped by the beauty and accuracy of the Spanish Reina-Valera 1960 version of the Holy Bible. This is a version based on the Textus Receptus, and is very literal while exhibiting the best Spanish of the Golden Century (Siglo de Oro). This is what one would call a word-for-word equivalence, or “literal” translation.
After the 1960s, and coincidentally with the advent of estructuralism, pragmatism and post-modernism into the mainstream of literary studies, Eugene A. Nida at the American Bible Society began to advocate a different kind of translation: the “thought-by-thought” translation, more commonly understood as “dynamic equivalence”. Examples of this kind of translation is the Spanish Dios Habla Hoy, and the English versions New Living Translation, New International Version and the Contemporary English Version. But no matter what kind of hype I heard, I never could come to terms with the “dynamic equivalence” translations; they just felt as being extremely patronizing, treating me as unable to think or interpret. Besides that, they felt like “dumbed-down” versions in the sense that they took the “sting” out of Scripture. I know the Bible uses rather strong and forceful language, but in these translations the Bible seemed like baby-talk.
When I moved to the U.S. back in 2000, I was nurtured in the faith by a vibrant, biblical, lively and compassionate community of faith which also took liturgy and worship very seriously, and the worship was, if you understand what I mean, not exactly the ‘Maranatha-Hayford-Garveys’ school. In fact, it was far more into the Vaughan Williams, Howells, Parry, Lauridsen, and others
. I loved it. I dug it. I craved it. For the first time, a church that had formal worship and did it with a joyful heart! So you might understand my disappointment when I noticed that the Bible version in the pews was the NIV. Yuck! Well, in a way it was understandable. The NIV translation was spearheaded by the denomination (the Christian Reformed Church) and it was regarded like an “in-house” product. People were very proud of it. Okay, I thought. This was the tough one to swallow…
One day, while in my apartment, I had the pleasure to receive a visit from the Church: one elder and one deacon, who were making a standard circuit of pastoral visits of members’ homes. While we were talking, sharing my struggles, concerns, and joys, the elder asked me if I had something to suggest. In fact I had: would you please consider changing your Bible version to something better? I took care of phrasing that request into the most tactful shape possible, and the elder was very interested in why I thought so. He said that it was surprising for me, having English as my second language, to request a Bible that would seem more difficult to grasp than the NIV. I had to explain to him that for me it was far more difficult to relate to Scripture in the NIV than in a more literal version such as the King James’. I was not looking for difficult English; what I wanted is a text that could do more justice to the originals and exhibit a better literary quality. The NIV wasn’t good in any of these areas.
The elder understood, and he then asked me what version would I like to use; to my surprise, the answer proved itself difficult: the New American Standard Bible was very literal, but awkward at times; the Revised Standard Version was liberal, and in fact it was the version used in the Church before the NIV, so it was already dismissed by our people; the King James Version was obviously too outdated. I recommended at that time that the revised NASB be evaluated as a possible replacement, but with an eye open for better arrivals in the field.
That conversation happened in the middle of 2001. Three months later, I found in the campus bookstore a Classic Reference Edition of the The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. Seeing this Bible branded as literal, faithful to the originals, readable, and with names such as J.I. Packer and Max Lucado associated to it, I was intrigued. What I found is an excellent translation that is in fact an orthodox revision of the Revised Standard Version, updating the language in several parts, undoing the liberal excesses, and in general giving excellent renderings.
I was really glad to have this Bible with me. Finally, a Bible which I could really understand and relate to, a Bible that is for English what Reina-Valera is for Spanish! The language is modern and very readable; the outlook is faithful to the text, and conservative (e.g., the word propitiation is retained), and in general avoids the plague of political correctness. If only I knew about this Bible version when the elder and deacon visited me!
In several exchanges with my excellent friends Tim and Ed we shared a concern about the increasing commercialism of Bible versions. The English versions that we now use and cherish are almost all copyrighted, and the copyright holders authorize their use only under very restrictive terms. The Lockman Foundation (owner of the NASB) and the International Bible Society (owner of the NIV) are the most egregious examples of this trend. This directly affected us in several ways. In my case, for example, I own a Bible study suite based on the Logos library system, published by the United Bible Societies. But I am unable to use it in GNU/Linux, because there’s no Logos System for it, and the only software available (the SWORD engine published by the CrossWire Bible Society) cannot release these versions in the SWORD format, because the versions are copyrighted and because the CrossWire Bible Society was unable to secure authorization. Similarly, the ESV Bible I got came with a handy CD which had Bible Study software with the texts of the King James Version and the ESV, but I cannot use it, because the software is for Windows, and a GNU/Linux version is not provided. And the ESV does not escape this trend: The text of the ESV is copyrighted, and there’s an authorization to use the text that is also subject to some restrictions.
But there’s an encouraging trend, and signs of hope in the horizon. Crossway Bibles (the ESV publisher) is taking several steps to make the ESV available to everyone as much as possible and you can perceive that they are adopting a copyright policy that is friendlier than those of the NIV and NASB. You can search the Bible from the Web (and even from here; look to the top right corner of the page); you can get it as a RSS feed, email, and now, as a Web service! (For more information, check the ESV Online website. There’s indeed a variety of ways you can get the ESV text).
Additionally, check this from Stephen Smith, Webmaster of the ESV Website:
Sometime soon we plan to make the ESV available in OSIS format through our web service. It's my understanding that Sword can read OSIS files, so you should be able to use your key to access the text that way. We may have to modify the terms of agreement slightly, but I hope that that will be possible.
All in all, I think I’m glad that Crossway is making efforts to ensure a wider availability of the ESV under sensible and reasonable terms. Right now I deem it as the best overall English version of the Bible, and I plan to use it as the primary version of the Bible in this site. The ESV is strongly recommended by this writer.
Give me your hand…
Back in the day, when it was time to print out the invitations for our wedding ceremony, G. and I decided that we would not put a Bible verse on it. The verses we considered relevant were too trite and commonplace, and to omit them wasn’t necessarily the end of the world. Instead, we put a beautiful poem by the Nobel Prize winner, the Chilean poet Gabriela Mistral:
| Dame la mano…
Dame la mano y danzaremos, El mismo verso cantaremos, Te llamas Rosa y yo Esperanza, |
Give me your hand…
Give me your hand, and we shall dance; We shall sing to the same verse, Your name’s Rose, and mine’s Hope |
The English translation is very literal, by me, and executed trying to reflect as much of the original Spanish flavor as possible. For a more “professional” translation, you might check Ursula K. Le Guin’s translation of the same poem here.
