Update and a Book Review

First of all, my apologies for my long hiatus from blogging. But I take comfort in the fact that my few faithful readers must have long ago lost their expectation of frequent, regular posts from me. My creative muses have fallen rather silent recently when it comes to writing essays or poetry, possibly because so much of that creative energy is funneled into sermons and Bible lessons now that I'm a pastor. I haven't been making much headway on writing my novels recently, either. My fantasy trilogy is already complete in the manuscript stage, and the second installment, The Conqueror's Song, was just signed under contract with OakTara Fiction, so hopefully that will be out in print relatively soon. I have a few other ideas for new novels I've been toying around with, but I'm not yet convinced that any of them have enough merit to actually pan out into a complete work. (Some of them are just fun stories that are so unlikely to actually appeal to a real publisher that I might just shrug off the fear of intellectual theft and serialize the stories here on my blog for your enjoyment.)

Second, a very quick update: Life is good, both at church and at home. Josiah is a delight, now almost 14 months old--he toddles through the halls of the parsonage, babbling away all the while. And I'm happy to announce that we're now expecting our second child! The due date is September 5 (Labor Day, ironically).

Third, an encouragement to read a literary treasure: In lieu of writing my own essay for this post, I thought I would offer a review for a book I read about a month ago, which deserves to be a well-read classic but, sadly, has fallen on hard times in terms of its popularity in recent centuries. This review will give you a good bit of detail as to the background of the book, and I offer it up because I really believe that this book is worth reading: The Consolation of Philosophy, by Boethius. Don't let the title scare you--it's actually written in story/dialogue form, and Philosophy is an actual character in the story, not just a dry subject of interest for scholars. And don't let the arcane name of the author scare you, either. Boethius is a great guy, and represents a period of history that is tragically misunderstood today. The Consolation of Philosophy stands as a shining example of the literary and intellectual creativity of the period of late antiquity in Europe that is usually dismissed as irrelevant--the 5th and 6th centuries--often described as "the fall of the Roman Empire," or the beginning of "the Dark Ages." Incidentally, if your history teachers described this period of European history in those terms, they were probably either ignorant or lying to you. But that's quite beside the point for now, except in making the suggestion that it's only because of that very ignorance and "chronological snobbery" that The Consolation of Philosophy is so little read nowadays.

If you have any interest in philosophy, in classical literature, in early Christian theology, or in the cultural legacy of medieval Europe, Boethius should be on your to-read list. The Consolation of Philosophy was wildly popular and influential for a thousand years after it was written in 524, and it formed a bridge from the world of classical philosophy, through the Middle Ages, all the way to the Renaissance. And it's worth reading not just because of its importance in the history of Western thought, but because it addresses questions that are just as relevant today as they were in the 6th century--questions about the meaning of suffering, the problem of evil, why bad things happen to good people (and why good things happen to bad people), what attitude the person suffering from a twist of fate should take, and so on. And, as the title suggests, the answers to these questions form a consolation--a true comforting, a positive take on life's most negative aspects. The real genius of the book is not any originality in its answers--that's not what Boethius was shooting for. Rather, the aim was to take the best answers from classical traditions--principally from Plato, Aristotle, and Stoicism--and to present them in a winsome format of dialogue and poetry, combined with some poignant reflections on theological issues that touch on these questions (such as free will, providence, and determinism). The result is a book that's relatively easy to read (at least compared with some other ancient philosophical literature), and that is rich with practical wisdom and theological insight. (The one part which might prove challenging for some readers is the final section, which focuses on human free will and divine foreknowledge, but for anyone with a taste for theology, it's well worth tackling.)

The story begins with Boethius' own situation. He was a high-ranking statesman in Rome, a consul who worked with the Senate (yes, Rome still had a Senate even after its "fall") under the rule of the great Ostrogothic king Theodoric. He was also a classical and Christian scholar of international fame, with a reputation as a master of logic and philosophy that lasted throughout the Middle Ages. By the time of his downfall, he had risen to the office of "Master of the King's Offices," one of the highest positions in the Western Empire. Then he had a twist of fate--he was unjustly suspected of treason, stripped of his titles and holdings, and locked up in prison to await his eventual execution. While in prison, he wrote The Consolation of Philosophy, and that's the setting of the dialogue. He's in his cell, pondering why all of this has happened to him, when he receives a vision from the Lady Philosophy. They converse back and forth about the questions that have been puzzling Boethius, offering various layers of explanation and practical advice, and each section of discourse is punctuated by an interlude of beautiful poetry.

Among the most poignant sections of the discourse are those where Philosophy explains why the problem of Fortune rewarding evil men is merely an illusion. She reminds us that it is only the good who possess true power, nobility, and wealth, whatever their material circumstances may be; and that the evil man, regardless of his material bounty or favorable circumstances, has evil itself as his constant and sufficient punishment. I won't give away all of Boethius' main points, because they're well worth reading for yourself, even if you're well-versed in classical philosophy. But I'll offer up a few gems gleaned from his pages, just to whet your appetite:

"You are wrong to think that Fortune has changed toward you. This is her nature, the way she always behaves. She is changeable, and so in her relations with you she has merely done what she always does....Really, the misfortunes which are now such a cause of grief ought to be reasons for tranquility. For now she has deserted you, and no man can ever be secure until he has been forsaken by Fortune."

"If you possess yourself, you have something you will never want to give up and something which Fortune cannot take from you....If happiness is the highest good of rational creatures, and if nothing which can be lost can be a supreme good (because it is obviously less good than that which cannot be lost), then clearly unstable Fortune cannot pretend to bring happiness."

"Man is constituted so that when he knows himself he excels all other things; but when he forgets who he is, he becomes worse than the beasts."

After describing how the cosmos is ordered and held together by the love of God: "O how happy the human race would be, if that love which rules the heavens ruled also your souls!"

"If you consider your beginning, and God your Maker, no one is base unless he deserts his birthright and makes himself a slave to vice."

"Only the wise can do what they want to do; the wicked can follow their desires, but they cannot accomplish what they want. For they do what they feel like doing, and they suppose that they will find among their pleasures the good they are really looking for. But they are bound to fail."

"Anyone who abandons virtue ceases to be a man, since he cannot share in the divine nature, and instead becomes a beast."

"In this way, wise men could abolish hatred; for no one but a fool would hate good men, and hating evil men would make no sense. Vicioiusness is a kind of disease of the soul, like illness in the body. And if sickness of the body is not something we hate, but rather regard with sympathy, we have much more reason to pity those whose minds are afflicted with wickedness, a thing worse than any sickness."

And here's a snippet from Philosophy's final conclusion: "Our hopes and prayers are not directed to God in vain, for if they are just they cannot fail. Therefore, stand firm against vice and cultivate virtue. Lift up your soul to worthy hopes, and offer humble prayers to heaven. If you will face it, the necessity of virtuous action imposed upon you is very great, since all your actions are done in the sight of a Judge who sees all things."