I just finished two good books yesterday. The first was Barth for Armchair Theologians by John Franke. The second was Praise Habit by David Crowder.
Barth for Armchair Theologians
I first encountered Barth in my historical theology class, my sophomore year in college. Growing up in a conservative evangelical church, I had no idea how important Barth was. When my professor said that Barth would easily be considered one of the top 5 most important theologians of all time, up there with Augustine, Aquinas, and Calvin, I was astounded that I had never heard of him. We read some selections from the Dogmatics in the class, and I have to admit, I did not understand him at all. I barely got a grasp of his idea of the double predestination of Christ and his theology of the three forms of the Word of God. The one thing that I did understand is that he was doing something mind-blowing with theology and he was not even in the same league as most of the theologians I had read up to that point. My second serious interaction with Barth was in my Systematic Theology class, my junior year in college. My professor was a Barth scholar, and his theology was basically Barthian. I began to get the broad contours of Barth’s thought through that class, but overall, I was confused about the details. My third encounter with Barth was much better than the first two. We read a book about Barth in my Senior Seminar class for Christian Formation and Ministry. It was a bizarre place to read Barth, because most of the students in that program had studied very little academic theology. It was strange to hear them pronounce the “th” in his name. It was not until this time that began to see the rich and beautiful approach that Barth had to theology. I left the class with an appreciation for him, and a hesitant and curious agreement with his theology in general.
Earlier this year, I read Grenz and Olson’s summary of his theology in 20th Century Theology, and I thought I should really try and engage with Barth some more. So, I was excited when I picked up Franke’s book. It did not disappoint. It was accessible, well-informed, and interesting. While there is no easy place to begin studying Barth, this book would be a good recommendation for those who are not familiar with him at all. Following a basically chronological look at his life and theology, the book paints a clear picture of both the context and development of Barth’s thought. Seeing it in the historical setting of liberal theology, the rise of Hitler, and World War II helps a lot.
One of the best things about the book is that it gives you more than a summary of Barth’s ideas. It also gives you much needed instruction on how to read his work. Barth’s theology is dialectical, which means there is a lot of tension in his ideas that he does not always neatly resolve. Because of this, reading his work is sort of like listening to a symphony. First of all, it is an acquired skill that grows with experience, and secondly, when Barth writes he states a theme, plays with it, develops it from different angles, and works it over and over in different ways, so that you do not get a clear picture unless you take his writing as a whole. That is why isolated statements of his are often very confusing and easily taken to mean something different than what they intended to mean. This approach to writing theology is appealing because it makes it much more of an art and seems to respect the mystery and nuance that is required when speaking of God. But, it also can be very frustrating and easily misunderstood.
The only drawback to the book are the cartoons. Because this is supposed to be for everyday people, the publishers filled the book with little caricature-style cartoons illustrating the ideas. Frankly, the illustrations are neither helpful nor respectful. The portrayal of both God and Jesus seems a little bit irreverent, and they were distracting from the excellent content of the book. Other than that, the only complaint I have about the book is that sometimes it seemed like Franke was trying to push his own agenda in what he emphasized. I like Franke’s approach on the whole, but sometimes it was clear that he was drawing out aspects of Barth’s theology that supported his agenda in putting forth a postconservative evangelical theological method rather than simply presenting Barth’s ideas. I don’t think that Franke misrepresented Barth too much in doing this, but there were times that I could tell Franke was on his own soapbox.
On the whole, I walked away enjoying Barth even more than I had in the past. I have a better sense of the big picture with his work, and I feel more confident saying that Barth is a welcome contributor to my theological thinking. I will definitely be reading more of him in the future.
Praise Habit by David Crowder
I have always loved David Crowder’s music, but I was a little skeptical when picking up his book, only because I have never really read a good book written by a Christian musician. My reservations were ill-founded, because this book was excellent.
The basic idea behind the book is that our lives ought to be filled with praise. In the first half of the book, Crowder spends about fifty pages exploring the nature of everyday life, praising God, and our habits, both good and bad. In the second half of the book, he launches into 21 mediations based off of different Psalms, exploring different aspects of living a life of
praise.
The first thing I need to tell you about this book is very funny. I laughed out loud on almost every page. The second thing I need to tell you is that this is a very well written book. Crowder has a way with words. He can say some very well-known ideas in ways that brings out the freshness you wish truth always had. I appreciated that, because it caught me off guard enough to open my heart again to some ideas that had not stirred my soul in a long time.
Crowder’s basic idea is that we must become who were meant to be, people of living praise. We must develop a habit of praise. This habit is not supposed to be of the mechanical unthinking kind, like our automatic actions, such as driving a car or checking our mail when we come home. We learn those things by repetition, and eventually, they loose the excitement they may have had the first few times we did them. We just do them automatically. Our habit of praise is supposed to be one like eating or breathing, where we do them naturally, out of necessity, because they keep us alive. The way to make praise natural is not to develop a habitual ritual like devotions, although that can be helpful sometimes. The way to make our worship like breathing, is to be clothed with Christ. This, I think, is where Crowder makes a step away from simplistic, legalistic ideas about living a life of worship. Accepting Christ’s life, embracing his work on our behalf, being united and clothed in him transforms our life into perpetual worship. It is not our efforts that make our life praise, but our union with Christ and transformation into the likeness of Christ.
Crowder’s mediations on the Psalms are very good. His approach is one loosely based on lectio devina, in which he prays and mediates on Scripture, and then writes out his thoughts in response. He usually draws out just one idea from a phrase or verse in the Psalm, and expounds on it for a few pages, using stories to illustrate the idea. He wisely chose a good variety of Psalms that express the happy and the sad, the joyous, the questioning, and the angry. I appreciated that his heart was clearly behind his words. These were not empty words, but heartfelt expressions of a heart seeking God. And those are the most nourshing kinds of words.
There are aspects of Crowder’s book that will bug some people. For one, he uses the Message almost exclusively. I think the main reason he did this is because it gives a fresh and poetic sound to the Scripture, which was present in the original language and context, but is often missing in our translations. He is not doing detailed exegesis, so I didn’t mind it. Personally, enjoyed reading Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase. Peterson is a good scholar and sought to honor the intent of the text. When seen for what it is, the Message is a great commentary on the Scripture. I think it helped me see afresh what has always been in familiar Psalms. Another thing that might bug some people is Crowder has a few places where he seems to tell stories just for the sake of telling stories. They are usually connected to the ideas of the Psalm, but sometimes it seems like he tried to make it fit just so he could tell a funny story. This is not all the time, and his stories were pretty good anyway.
I found that as I read the book, I really identified with Crowder. He is absentminded, goofy, and just trying to figure life out. He seems to stumble onto insight, an he delights in the ordinary parts of life. Because he is exceptional at articulating his experiences, it always feels like he is putting into words what you always felt but didn’t know how to say. It was a delight to read his book, and it was good for the soul. I highly recommend it, and I look forward to any future writing from David Crowder.
What next?
What are the next books on my list? Well, I am still finishing Reading the Scriptures with the Church Fathers by Christopher A. Hall. It is excellent. I am going to try and get on an “old book, new book” cycle, and I am tempted to start with Calvin’s Institutes. I might split it into parts, doing each of the four books that make up the Institutes as separate reads. I’ll read one of them, read a new book, and then read the next one. I don’t know. We’ll see.
