The real Martin Luther. Holy Misfits book 1. written by Josh hamon, illustrated by Brynn James
This is a very dynamic biography of the great, history-changing Martin Luther. Josh Hamon chose an unconventional approach, blending well researched historical facts with humor and unadulterated honesty, all of which are enhanced by Brynn James's clever black-and-white illustrations.
Despite some small drawbacks, like the fact that I did not quite understand the reference of Luther as a "cucumber" and occasional confusing footnotes and abbreviations, the book is an invaluable tool as an introduction to Martin Luther, his character, his personal life, and his impact on history. Having been a homeschooling mother, I would highly recommend it as a reading for home and Christian schooling.
The fairness with which the book is written is refreshing: although Luther was admirable, he was not flawless. He could be unjust, intolerant, cantankerous, resentful, and even foul-mouthed.
Hamon provides a clear sense of the broader historical context, underscoring for instance, the impact of the printing press.
I found two chapters particularly interesting. First, the one concerning Luther's love of music, which contrasted him with other Reformers. Luther embraced secular as well as religious melodies and brought songs to the whole congregation, Hamon tell us, because he saw music as a medium for emotions and thoughts, a gift from God.
The second chapter that I thought particularly enlightening concerns the importance of Katherine von Bora, Luther's wife, and clearly shows how as a couple, they were truly partners both at home and within their church work.
An entertaining and informative read.
This is a captivating novel that stands out from most Christian historical novels in three major ways. First, written in the first person, it reads like a diary or a memoir and thus easily transports the reader to rural England of the 1860s; Second, although events are few and relatively ordinary, one cannot put the book down because the character development rings true and we want to see what happens next not only for Rebecca but for other characters in the story; third, and maybe the most important aspect of the novel, Rebecca takes the reader on a spiritual journey that concerns us all, in any century.
Rebecca, the only child of a village vicar and his wife, finds herself orphaned at the age of seventeen. Two older neighbor ladies help her come to grip with the brutality of her loss and the decisions to be made. Distrusting her only relative, her paternal uncle, she decides to take work as a domestic. The work load is heavy, the discipline rigorous, yet she is aware of learning much. The friendship of fellow servants as well as of the villagers and the minister in her new surroundings help her cope with her new life and keep a sense of identity in a world where she is expected to do without speaking, questioning, or thinking.
Despite the strict separation between the Davenport family and the servants, her employers allow their employees to borrow books from the library and, in her very scarce hours of freedom, Rebecca becomes a voracious reader. This love of books introduces her to Edward Thorpe, also an orphan, but nephew to the Davenports. Edward and Rebecca find they share the same religious convictions as well, but the demarcation between servants and gentry, as Rebecca discovers, is a hard one to breach.
Having become a housekeeper herself by the time she turns twenty, Rebecca has had to endure new disappointments and been forced to make new decisions, wondering what God had in mind for her life. By the time she finds true love, she realizes that God has trained her for her the life she has longed and prayed for.
Through Rebecca's story, Hannah Buckland raises important spiritual points, such as, the difference among preachers with those who live out their faith in service of their fellow men; those who seek popularity among their parishioners first and foremost and thus preach "feel good" sermons that challenge no one, and those who view their position as a form of spiritual aristocracy, displaying their knowledge and superiority toward their parishioners, always ready to point at the punishment for sins, but never at God's grace offered to all. There are also the questions of unanswered prayers, especially when contrasted with an ardent desire of the heart, of talents and calling, and of the danger of becoming too conformed to the world by allowing subtle but nefarious changes to enter one's life little by little. Something that is sadly too easily achieved when one does not keep a vigilant watch on his beliefs and values. It would be too long to list more of the many qualities of this novel, so I will simply add that it is a truly profound Christian work of fiction, well worth reading and discussing.
Beauty & the Beast 2017, a Christian Reflection
Much had been anticipated about the 2017 Beauty and the Beast by both detractors and fans, when it was released. While many in the secular world applauded the innovations inserted in the tale, many Christians remained perplexed, divided between their love for the old tale, their appreciation of cinematographic art, and their weariness at the more and more ubiquitous intrusion in our modern society of "Political Correctness." Hopefully this will offer a fair assessment, helpful to Christian families.
At least two live-action versions of "Cinderella" have successfully enlarged the traditional scope of the fairy tale: Ever After (1998) directed by Andy Tennant, and the 2015 Cinderella, directed by Kenneth Branagh; so the public was justifiably hoping for another masterpiece.
Furthermore, the Disney animated version of the tale in 1991 improved in many ways the story written in the 18th century by Jeanne Marie Leprince de Beaumont. It made the prince responsible for his punishment, result of his pride and selfishness, which in turn led to his whole household to be condemned along with him, his castle and gardens to be imprisoned in winter and bleakness; and his sole hope of rescue to come from outside, genuine and selfless love. In fact, these elements are very biblical in nature: by the sin of Adam (pride) the whole human race became outcast and could only be saved by the sacrificial love of Christ. As the spell is broken, we witness the transformation of castle and people from winter to spring, from objects to restored human beings; and from despair to joy. Even the sculptures of the castle turn from gargoyles (demonic figures) to angels. This is, above all, a story of repentance and redemption.
The 2017 Beauty and the Beast uses the animated version as its source, which is good. In some respects, it even improves upon it. For instance, it gives Belle a more complete background story, with a close-knit and talented family, with a mother who sacrifices herself for the sake of her husband and daughter. It is clear Maurice devoted himself to his daughter and provided her with a careful education. Maurice himself has more depth than his animated alter-ego: instead of a lovable but goofy inventor, he is a gifted craftsman and artist; though he still mourns his wife, he has never let his loss prevent him from being a loving father who has enabled his daughter to become an independent young woman; he is a man of learning and wisdom, clever and courageous.
The film also develops more the reason why Belle and the Beast grow close: they share long conversations and discover mutual interests and true affinities. In short, they truly and clearly become friends, the best basis for a lasting and happy marriage.
Even Gaston is better fleshed out: he is less a caricature of the "macho guy" than in the cartoon; he is believable as an intelligent, selfish, ruthless leader of gullible masses, who is both cunning and cowardly, a truly evil and scary character.
The three proverbial "dumb blondes" have been replaced by three empty-headed brunettes, but they are just as effectively showing us the pitiful shallowness of girls following the same fashion and values, devoid of individuality and common sense, who readily fall for a man who has all the makings of a wife abuser, and who has no interest and no respect for them.
Unfortunately, these positive elements are sadly weakened by a feminist/homosexual agenda, that even manages to rob the Prince of a true personality. Indeed, we learn that he became selfish because of his father, so, really, it is not his fault at all. Never mind free will! And now, we are back to the earlier versions of the story by Villeneuve and Beaumont, in which the prince is just the victim of a temperamental fairy. What the animated film had successfully accomplished is here irreparably damaged.
There is also the homosexual agenda, with Lefou clearly infatuated with Gaston (who only uses Lefou). Apart from the fact that Christians find this topic distasteful and upsetting, because homosexuality is clearly condemned in the Bible (see Romans 1:27; Jude 1:7; Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13), this deliberate effort to force a politically-correct argument feels really out of place and gauche. It fits the story as well as a pair of ballet shoes would a whale! It so obviously does not belong there, that it is painful to watch.
Infinitely more nefarious, however, is the pervasive idea that, in the past, women's education was generally viewed as a bad idea by men, with the schoolmaster objecting to Belle teaching a little girl how to read. This feminist fallacy is disproved time and again by history: limits on education had little to do with gender and everything to do with social class: well into the 19th century, especially in Catholic countries where individuals were not generally allowed to read the Bible themselves, the poor male farmer, servant, or miner was less likely to know how to read than the middle class woman, like Belle, would. There were circulating libraries, newspapers, and girl schools by the 18th century, time setting for this story. So this remark meant to pound again into the mind of the modern misinformed and undiscerning masses that women were hopelessly oppressed before Betty Friedan arrived to save them is as disingenuous as it is revolting. Paradoxically, the education women received then far outdid much of what many modern students learn in college today, but that is a fact feminists, bent on agenda instead of truth, do not want people to know.
There are also smaller problems, such as the extravagant ball at the beginning of the movie where the prince is the only male dancing amidst a sea of women (all in white, as if color had not been invented for dresses), which is rather overdone. The perennial urinating-dog scene had to make its appearance, and one begins to wonder when film makers are going to realize it is neither clever nor funny, only crass.
Over all the live-action Beauty and the Beast had the potential to make a truly superior film and possesses admirable graphic qualities that characterize true artwork; one can only regret that its creators proved unable to conceive a stunning masterpiece without injecting it with the latest modern controversial issues, thus missing the pivotal point that what makes fairy tales immortal is that they never reflect the ephemeral politics of the day, but instead offer a perennial and universal message of hope, virtue, and perseverance.
Christians should not reject the proverbial baby with the bathwater, but should discuss with their children the underlying agenda woven into the true tale, while appreciating fairly the qualities of the film, and maybe should inspire them to write a new variation of the story.
Brett and Kate McKay are the founders and managers of "The Art of Manliness" website. Brett McKay writes a compelling tribute to the importance of letter writing. Although the article targets principally men, the tenor of it applies to women as well.
He points out that, despite the usefulness of modern social media, there is something truly irreplaceable with the writing and receiving of a traditional letter. Its very physicality endows it with personality, as a letter is brought home from the mailbox "as an invited guest."
McKay also brings to light the legacy of old letters to be cherished as priceless documents of family history. To him, anything of truly profound importance cannot be conveyed by an email, it deserves the best writing has to offer and that best is a hand-written letter, carefully and thoughtfully crafted.
To McKay, letter-writing is truly an art and requires special tools to carry the proper impact: quality stationery and pens are the basics. He recommends using a fountain pen which glides elegantly on the paper and conveys "a subtle hint of sophistication" that cheap ballpoint pens could never hope to achieve.
McKay even advises the use of sealing wax as an added touch of class...and fun. Whether one uses a wax seal or not, a letter opener is a must, because it slits the envelope neatly, allowing for the further preservation of its contents, instead or tearing it sloppily.
The second part of the article quotes from Hills Manual of Social and Business Forms, a book written in 1821, which recommends attention to style and manner, purity of expression and form, and respect of etiquette.
We live in an age in which speed seems to rule supreme and that has lost sight of beauty, quality, and the importance of putting one's self into what one undertakes. McKay's article brings back the focus to what matters and a way to convey that which is most important to us. Someone said that what was worth doing was worth doing well. Conveying our thoughts and feelings to others is certainly important, since communication is what makes us human; therefore, we must take seriously the means by which we express what is of value to us, and a vital part of accomplishing this is to select with care the tools and method by which our ideas might touch not only the intended recipients of today, but possibly future generations as well.
I just re-read this little book and feel invigorated anew!
In a world bombarded by negativity, The Butterfly Effect is a powerful reminder that life has meaning and that each human being is a key player with an unforeseen potential for influence, not only on his/her immediate circle of family, friends, and other acquaintances, but also on a larger present, and even on the future.
Richly illustrated, this little volume (only 100-pages long, with short text on each) is easily read and gladly revisited time and again, because its powerful message needs to be remembered, especially when times are rough.
It is divided into three parts. In the first, Andrews introduces us to Edward Lorenz, a scientist, who presented his colleagues with a revolutionary theory: that a butterfly flapping its wings generates a sequence of molecules in motion which, increasing as it progresses, can eventually create an outcome far more sizable and powerful than its original impetus. While the scientific world laughed at Lorenz's idea, it was literature, science fiction more specifically, that first realized the value of such a concept. At long last, some thirty years later, the scientific community had to concede the validity of Lorenz's theory, which has since become the "law of sensitive dependence upon initial conditions." In passing, I always find significant --being a literature major-- that writers often perceive and grasp truths before scientists do!
The second part of the book, and, in my opinion, the most moving, retells the amazing true story of Colonel Joshua Chamberlain, a thirty-four-year-old Colonel in the Union Army, at Gettysburg, who made, against overwhelming odds, a daring decision that changed the course of history, giving the victory to the Union, preserving the United States as one country, thus enabling it, some eighty years later, to rescue Europe from Nazism!
The third part of the book explores, in a sort of backward domino effect, the significant impact of individuals, whose actions and interests triggered a chain of events that continue to touch our present-day world, indeed our daily lives.
Andrews's analysis emboldens our flagging courage and renews our awareness of history and of the role we are called to play throughout our earthly journey. The Butterfly Effect demonstrates clearly that not just the powerful and the famous can lead a life of "permanent purpose," but that it is a privilege and a duty that belongs to each and every one of us.
While this little volume is short enough to be read even by someone not overly fond of books, it makes an inspirational gift for any momentous event of life, such as graduation, marriage, or embarking on a new job.