'19 Reads

The ten books below are not ranked; you’ll not find here “the best books of the year according to Lianna,” “a list of books I endorse,” or even “my favorite books I read this year.” Instead, my list is comprised of a handful of books that drove themselves into my thinking—in the assorted ways described below—and changed me this year. (Note: In order to avoid redundancy, I excluded any books that I mention in Keeping the Faith.)

On the Incarnation, by Athanasius

Athanasius’ meditations on Jesus, God Incarnate, upholding the universe imparted to my spirit true Christmas joy. He wrote: “Existing in a human body, to which He Himself gives life, He is still Source of life to all the universe, present in every part of it, yet outside the whole; and He is revealed both through the works of His body and through His activity in the world.” (Pg. 15) To read Athanasius’ reflections was beauty imbibed!

Provence, 1970: M.F.K. Fisher, Julia Child, James Beard, and the Reinvention of American Taste, by Luke Barr

For all of this book’s discussion on good taste and foods that taste good, its greater value for me was in the distaste it produced: never before had I quite identified that what I call excellence might sometimes be snobbery. And, purchasing the book on a whim to read about Julia Child for fun, it was a surprise lesson no less.

American History: A Very Short Introduction, by Paul S. Boyer

Largely, Boyer carried me through a sweep of American events—but this book also made me grieve. The author wrote: “The means have changed—from open-air exhortation to televangelism and suburban megachurches—but evangelical faith and missionary zeal remain alive and well in the twenty-first-century America.” (Kindle Loc. 361) Can George Whitefield and Joel Osteen possibly be seen as belonging to the same group worshiping the same God? 

Agnes Grey, by Anne Brontë

Prior to reading this novel, I had dwelt on character as a reward in itself—and most of all, as a response to God’s grace of godly perseverance in suffering (Romans 5:3-5). But this book propounded that being able to interact in robust and substantive ways with other people also rests on good character—another reward. 

Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, by John Bunyan

Bunyan influenced me as a writer. From him I saw that divulging how one’s personal, developing faith interacts with the truths of Scripture can be a writing pursuit timelessly of aid. Bunyan writes, for example, of an illness that brought him near death. After confessing that he had once been afraid of death, he relayed: “Now death was lovely and beautiful in my sight; for I saw we shall never live indeed till we be gone to the other World. Oh, methought this life is but a slumber in comparison with that above; at this time also I saw more in those words, Heirs of God (Rom. 8:17), than ever I shall be able to express while I live in this world. Heirs of God! God himself is the portion of the Saints.” (pg. 50)

Eight Women of Faith, by Michael A. G. Haykin

Lady Jane Grey: an Evangelical Queen—she was (very briefly) queen of England prior to her execution by “Bloody Mary.” Her debate with Roman Catholic John Howman, or John of Feckham, about why she was an evangelical; her words for her younger sister about the treasure of Scripture; and her final speech prior to death all reveal an abiding faith in Christ—whom she knew through Reformation doctrine. Addressing those who would soon witness her execution, she said: “I do look to be saved by no other mean, but only by the mercy of God, in the blood of his only Son Jesus Christ.” (Kindle Loc. 424) I pray that her conviction printed on Haykin’s page would be assumed in my heart with the same black-and-white clarity. 

The Four Loves, by C. S. Lewis

Under Lewis’ tutelage, friendship became a less amorphous concept to me. He wrote, “To the Ancients, Friendship seemed the happiest and most full human of all loves; the crown of life and the school of virtue.” Another of his thoughts: “. . . [Friendship] is a relation between men at their highest level of individuality.” And then: “The very condition of having Friends is that we should want something else besides Friends. Where the truthful answer to the question Do you see the same truth? Would be ‘I see nothing and I don’t care about the truth; I only want a Friend,’ no Friendship can arise—though Affection of course may. There would be nothing for the Friendship to be about; and Friendship must be about something. . . .” I often want my friends involved in one endeavor or another that I undertake—and I have sometimes noticed the same tendency in others too. Lewis puts words to why. (Kindle Loc. 742, 859—Note: The Kindle edition I own is no longer available, so I have linked to another.)

Christianity & Liberalism, by J. Gresham Machen

Even if anti-intellectual Christians have existed, God cannot be described as such. I mused throughout reading Machen that the God who created the intellect gives it the satisfaction of His inscripturated word. My reasons for desiring knowledge, and anticipation of how knowledge can augment my faith expressed, grew meatier.

The Short Life of Jonathan Edwards, by George Marsden

For this entry on my list, I make an exception to my premise for this post. I must reveal my appreciation for this book—that if I were ranking books I read this year, this would be among the top. The even writing, the marked detail, the unexpected pieces of history interwoven—I fell ravenous over this little feast. (I say “little” because, in full, it registers at 176 pages as compared with Marsden’s Edwards: A Life at 640). The whole of it fed me; so, I can do no better than humbly raise it for your 2020 reading list (if you haven’t read it already).

The Soul in Paraphrase, By Leland Ryken

I am certainly not familiar with all of George Herbert’s poems—simply reading one here or there over the years or using a topical guide when I want to feel with him on a given subject. So, when might I have found Prayer (I) had I not read The Soul in Paraphrase? I stand indebted to Ryken for introducing me to a poem that I anticipate carrying into the next year and still remembering the year after that.

We Are Never Helpless in Helping

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Regularly, I encounter suffering in other believers’ lives that I cannot remedy or change. Further, I am unable to comprehend the full impact and the unique features of others’ pressures and sorrows. Yet, I often desire to be that impossibly close. Knowing what I cannot do could lead to discouragement. But the apostle Paul writes of a better way.

“Join Me”

Paul tells—no, urges—the church in Rome to join him in his struggle (Romans 15:30). He doesn’t instruct his fellow Christians to solely accept and acknowledge their real limitations in helping him. He also doesn’t say that because they are not the agents of solution or omniscient listeners, they aren’t much help after all. He tells them to enter into his concerns.

After teaching upon teaching of gospel theology in his letter to the Romans, Paul then writes to the church in Rome about his needs. He desires to be free in Judea to continue his mission and well-received in ministry in Jerusalem (cf. Acts 24:17), all so that he may be refreshed through a trip to the church at Rome(Romans 15:31-32). And Paul gives the church at Rome these prayer requests fundamentally on the basis of their being fellow believers who share with him in the love of God through Christ, as his letter describes. While he is hoping to visit them, he has been prevented from doing so (Romans 1:13). But he entreatsthat they share his concerns; he wants their help.

As one immediate and personal application of the theology he had been teaching—a theology that joins believers together in the Lord—he asks them to pray.

“I urge you, brothers and sisters, by our Lord Jesus Christ and by the love of the Spirit, to join me in my struggle by praying to God for me.”
Romans 15:30 NIV

Commonality Affects Prayer

If any of the recipients of his letter have merely casual concerns for him thus far, he urges them forward. If they have little to no concerns, he asks them to consider their same Lord and the same love of the Holy Spirit among them—the God who makes their priorities and sense of mission shared. And if they already do have significant concern, then he directs that drive of compassion toward one end—the means by which he believes that he will substantially receive their aid. 

When a believer is suffering and we want to help more than we possibly can help, we can pray.

Perhaps you have done all that you are able to do in the life of a suffering friend—been present to listen, continued toremembered him or her over time, sought to offer specific service of some kind, or insightful and compassionate words of biblical help that God has enabled you to provide—and you still feel as though you wish you could do more. Don’t belittle the help you have already given. And then, don’t doubt the purpose of the compassion that is remaining in your heart; don’t allow it to make you feel helpless. It’s there for a purpose. 

As we pray for God’s glory in the lives of our believing friends and family members, we remember what He can do:

  1. God can see into our inner beings to know our exact needs,preparing corresponding provisions of Himself to help the believer stay near to Him in sorrow. The Holy Spirit is able to guide the suffering Christian into the truth of the Word, the truth that affords lasting comfort and provides foundation for perseverance.

  2. God could change circumstances altogether, glorifying Himself through a demonstration of His power. And He can also arrange the sufferer’s days to allow for upliftingcircumstantial help amidst pain.

  3. God can provide opportunities through suffering by the Spirit to display Christ-like character and proclaim the gospel that alone gives hope, as God’s glory radiates through the believer’s life. God can enable the Christian to maintain, and often increase, his or her witness to Christ while in the saddest of days.

  4. God can move the Christian’s inner spirit to pray with a hopeful, expectant, and believing heart that He would come back for His own soon. And the Christian’s spirit can also gain greater compassion for those who yet do not have the hope of the gospel, thanking God for His patience with this world.

God can press His good purposes into human sorrow with such power that the believer can have immense joy through the privilege of glorifying His Name and depending upon Him at all times. Paul is, of course, right. We have commonality through our shared love of God that enables us to instantaneously understand the manner in which we can pray for one another.

Additionally, Paul does not only ask for prayer as a fellow believer, but also as one who is engaged in a life devoted to the ministry of the Word and to the spread of the gospel to those who had not yet heard it. As we think of those who are suffering, we can pray too for believers experiencing various pressures as a result of their devotion to ministry and missions—joining as supporters of their labors. 

Never Helpless in Helping

Because we have prayer, we are never helpless in helping. We can call upon the Lord who knows us and all of our circumstances with knowledge that is comprehensive, familiar, and precise. Pressing into our desires to help others in impossible-to-us ways is useful, hope-filled. For, in those desires, we remember to pray into others’ lives the comforts of our shared, infinite God. 


This post was originally published at The Ploughman’s Rest.