Nothing separates

After Romans 8:31-39

Hearing the call, and

responding to the call,

they gathered together.

And once gathered,

nothing could separate

them from the caller.

A whole litany of foes –

disease, war, famine,

poverty, upheaval – 

stood silent, mute,

unable to divide

and conquer. Nothing

separates the called,

nothing separates

the gathered, from

the Caller. From

the Gatherer. 

Nothing prevails

against them,

because of who

the Caller is.

Photograph by Hannah Valentine via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Saturday Good Reads

Years ago, in 1980 to be exact, I read a collection of letters between C.S. Lewis and his long-time friend Arthur Greeves, entitled They Stand Together. They became friends as children and began a correspondence in 1914 that lasted until Lewis died in 1963. Most of the letters in the book are by Lewis, because Greeves kept them. Most of the letters sent by Greeves were destroyed by Lewis’s brother, Warnie, who burnt a considerable amount of Lewis’s correspondence after his brother died. Harry Lee Poe at Desiring God takes a look at Lewis’s teenage years, and those letters to Greeves are an important source.

When it comes to the coronavirus, we’ve all heard more contradictory statements and claims made by experts who all say they “follow the science.” How can science be all over the map when it comes to masks, youth sports, routes of exposure, church meetings, BLM protests, and just about everything else? Patrick Pierson at Front Porch Republic takes a look at “following the science” in a polarized age.

My three grandsons attend a classical Christian school, and I can’t say enough good things about this particular form of education. It’s reminiscent of the kind of education that was common in public schools 50 and 60 years ago; it’s also better than that. It may be important for another reason besides education. Richard Hughes Gibson at Plough Books notes how important Christian education has become for keeping faith alive.

More Good Reads

Life and Culture

Why You Really Ought to Learn about Mongolian Throat Singing – Mark Meynell at The Rabbit Room. 

The Specter Haunting Marxism – Andrew Latham at The Imaginative Conservative.

Suicide of the Liberals – Gary Saul Morson at First Things Magazine. 

Wildfire Hype, and Hope – James Meigs at CityJournal. 

Poetry

Balancing the Flame – Jack Stewart at Kingdom Poets (D.S. Martin).

Aug. 1, 1966 – Megan Willome.

Faith

God Loves a Good Metaphor – Paul Phillips at He’s Taken Leave. 

All Other Ground – Greg Doles at Chasing Light.

Why Religion is Awkward for Secular Humanists – Andrew Bunt at Think Theology. 

My Favorite Part of the Wedding – Doug Spurling at Spurling Silver.

We Are Mists and Marvels: Weighing the Beauty and Brevity of Life – Jon Bloom at Desiring God. 

Reading

How to read fewer books – Alain de Botton at The School of Life.

How Algorithms Are Changing What We Read Online – Russell Smith at The Walrus.

Writing and Literature

19th Century Reading Habits Come To Light Via Delightful Comments Scrawled in the Margins of a Crime Novel – Curtis Evans at CrimeReads.

What They Don't Teach You in MFA Programs: 5 Rules for Writing Stories That Work – Chris Mooney at Writers Digest.

History

Finding a Home for the Last Refugees of World War II – David Nasaw at Literary Hub.

News Media

The myth behind BLM's 'peaceful protests' -- Bruce Newsome at The Critic Magazine.

Summer in the Dolomites: Timelapse

Painting: A Woman Reading, oil on canvas by Carl Spitzweg (1808-1885).

It's over and done

After Romans 8:31-39

It’s over and done,

this battle, this war,

it’s over and done

before it even begins.

The forces are arrayed 

so unequally:

on one side, God;

on the other,

it doesn’t matter.

And his people 

as well, those he

called and those

he gathered, so, too,

do they stand

undefeated and

unaccused, because

the accusations

and the charges

and the crimes 

have been paid for,

atoned.

Photograph by Nghia Le via Unsplash. Used with permission.

"Make Haste Slowly" by Amy Rognlie

Callie Erickson has moved from Ohio to Short Creek, a small town in central Texas. Her great-aunt Dot has moved into a retirement home, and Callie has bought her house and set up a florist/bookstore business. It sounds almost idyllic, except that Callie has brought more than physical baggage with her – the memories of a marriage that was failing, a husband slowly dying from ALS disease, and then his death in an automobile accident. It’s been five years, but Callie is still haunted by what she left behind.

Then she finds a body on the doorstep of her shop, a dead man clutching a box of what looks like relatively worthless bottles, trinkets, and books. The box seems to be addressed to her, with a note inside one of the books bearing a familiar anchor logo with the Latin words for “Make haste slowly.”

Amy Rognlie

More mysteries develop. The minister of a nearby church begins to behave oddly. The sheriff seems to be suspicious of anything Callie says or does. A neighbor’s granddaughter may be caught up in sex trafficking. Callie herself is knocked unconscious inside the church as she arrives to arrange flowers for a wedding. What’s going on in Short Creek?

Make Haste Slowly is the first in the Short Creek Mystery Series by Amy Rognlie (The second is Where There’s a Willand the third is To Err is Human.) The novel is as much about faith as it is a mystery, and, rather refreshingly, the author doesn’t mask the strong Christian beliefs of many of her characters.

In addition to the Short Creek mysteries, Rognlie has also published two novels in the Miss Opal Series and three historical romances. She had published three works in the late 1990s before taking a break from writing to raise her family and earn her teaching credentials. She lives in Texas.

Make Haste Slowly has more coincidences than might be expected, but it’s an engaging story that tackles sex trafficking, old sins, the things our faith asks us to do, including forgiving others and ourselves. And there’s a touch of romance thrown in as well.

“The Old American Artist” by Felipe Adan Lerma

Occasionally, you start reading a book and think you’re reliving a part of your own youth. 

Arturo is an artist. He’s living in Italy with his wife Rosetta. Their children are grown and busy at careers back in the States. Rosetta has also been there, visiting, but she’s now due back to Italy. It’s a big day and evening for Arturo – with the evening will come an exhibition of his paintings. Yes, it’s a small town, but it’s still a big deal.

The story of The Old American Artist by Felipe Adan Lerma happens over the course of a day. But it also happens over the course of more than three decades, stretching back to Arturo’s 20s when he lived in Galveston and was just beginning to discover his art.  The story of Arturo’s day, and the story of Arturo’s life, are interspersed to form the story’s narrative. 

The reader moves back and forth, ultimately realizing that one story is being told. And it’s a love story, both the love story of Arturo and Rosetta and the love story of Arturo and his painting. It’s a love story that doesn’t run smoothly. The couple face difficulties and separations. Arturo experiences times of artistic drought and doubt. A question even arises whether or not Rosetta is really returning for the big exhibition. 

Felipe Adan Lerma

The story is a work of fiction, but it is clearly based on Lerma’s life. The part of the story set in Texas is what’s personally familiar to me, with scenes from Galveston and Houston reminding me of my own 20s living in Houston. I know the freeways Arturo drives, and I know the malls where he sometimes sells his work. I even know the “east side” of town where Arturo meets Rosetta; I did volunteer work at a children’s home in that area. 

Lerma is himself an artist and photographer, not unlike Arturo. He’s also a poet, a novelist, a short story writer, and a mystery and thriller writer. He’s written a series of works on visiting Paris, including a day-by-day itinerary in how to visit the city in 5 ½ weeks. Like his fictional hero, he’s lived in Texas, Vermont, and Italy. The Old American Artist is the first of three short novels in a series, the second being Rosetta and the third being The Children.

The Old American Artist is a charming delight to read, the story of an older artist who understands his life and the depth of feeling he has for the two great loves of that life – his wife and his art.

“30 Poems to Memorize (Before It’s Too Late)” by David Kerns

Writer David Kern tells us that memorization is about love and memory – love for the things we remember the most. My eight-year-old grandson can rattle off sports scores and statistics like the most experienced sports analyst, but then, he loves sports. My wife knows the lyrics to virtually every song from the British Invasion of the 1960s. I can remember daily itineraries for six visits to England, including the first one in 1983. Our own Sandra Heska King even memorized the 131-line “The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock.”

My 12^th grade English teacher had a slightly different view. She required that each of us in a class of 30 boys had to memorize at least one soliloquy by Shakespeare, because “you’re not educated unless you can recite a soliloquy by Shakespeare.” I chose the dagger scene from Macbeth, and I dutifully (as required) memorized it and recited it before the class. I still remember it today: “Is this a dagger which I see before me, / the handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. / I have thee not, and yet I still thee still…” 

To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.

“All the Devils Are Here” by Louise Penny

Chief Inspector Armand Gamache of the Quebec Surete is back with a new story, except it doesn’t happen in Quebec and none the regular characters from the village of Three Pines are present.

Gamache and his wife Reine-Marie are in Paris for the birth of their fourth grandchild. His son-in-law and former No. 2 Jean-Guy Beauvoir and the Gamaches’ daughter Anny are having their second child, and the birth is imminent. Jean-Guy is working for a large and globally known engineering firm. Their son Daniel Gamache and his wife Roslyn have lived in Paris for some years and have two daughters. Daniel works in investment banking.

In the previous 15 Gamache novels by Louise Penny, we don’t really know much about Daniel and his family. In All the Devils Are Here, we find out why. Daniel and his father are estranged and have been since Daniel was a boy. Gamache has never understood what happened between them. Paris holds other attractions; it’s the city where Armand proposed to Reine-Marie, and it’s the city where Armand’s godfather, 93-year-old Stephen Horowitz, lived for many years and where he still maintains an apartment. 

Louise Penny

Stephen joins the Gamache family for dinner one Friday night. As they leave the restaurant, Stephen is critically injured by a hit-and-run truck. Gamache suspects the attack was deliberate. When the body of a 75-year-old engineer, also from Montreal, is found in Stephen’s apartment, killed with what was likely a military weapon, Gamache knows that something bad is happening. Over the next three days, the chief inspector and his family will face mystery, danger, and peril. Someone is desperate to find something that Stephen had, something he was apparently preparing to take to a board meeting of the engineering firm where Jean-guy works. 

All the Devils Are Here maintains the core characters – Gamache and Jean-Guy – of the previous novels. It also retains the feel and distinct characteristics of the series – a high-level conspiracy, a story that peels like an onion (often including the smell and the tears), and the dogged determination of the inherently decent Gamache. What’s different, other than the setting and the absence of the regular village residents, is how much we learn about Gamache’s family and his own personal history.

It’s a big story, wonderfully told by a master storyteller.

Related:

My review of Kingdom of the Blind.

My review of Glass Houses.

My review of A Great Reckoning.

My review of The Long Way Home.

My review of How the Light Gets In.

My review of The Beautiful Mystery.

My review of The Hangman.

My review of Penny’s A Trick of the Light.

My review of Penny’s A Fatal Grace.

My review of Penny’s Still Life.

My review of Penny’s The Cruelest Month.

My review of Penny’s A Rule Against Murder.

My review of The Brutal Telling.

My review of Penny’s Bury Your Dead.

My review of A Better Man.