A year ago, I enrolled in the MFA program at Seattle Pacific University. It might have seemed an odd move. If I had already published several books, what did I need with an MFA? But for me, this was less a career decision and more of a vocational one. Vocation is, of course, the word we use to talk less about paid work and more about calling. Sometimes these are one and the same—and often these are different.
For my MFA, I’ve been reading a LOT of books, including most recently, those written by the American Transcendentalists. To prepare for our spring residency, we read works by Thoreau and Emerson (among others), and we also read Robert D. Richardson’s First We Read, Then We Write, a book that explores Emerson’s creative process.
Richardson notes Emerson’s habit of “glancing” at books. Emerson read voraciously, but he did not want to be unduly influenced by the books he read. He also kept what’s traditionally been called a commonplace book, where he journaled and jotted notes from his reading. In one of those commonplace books, Emerson quoted the British Romantic poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, who had identified four types of readers.
First, explained Coleridge, there is the hourglass reader: what goes in comes back out, unchanged. This reader doesn’t make much practical or personal use of his reading. He doesn’t bring his own opinions to bear on the text. Second, said Coleridge, there is the sponge reader. This is a reader who takes everything in—and returns it a little dirtier. This is to say that they likely don’t understand what they read, and when they try making use of it, they soil what the original author intended. Third, there is the jelly-bag reader, the reader who squeezes out the valuable and keeps the worthless. And finally, there is the Golconda, the reader who “runs everything through a sieve, keeping only the nuggets.”
I hope it’s obvious which kind of reader we might strive to be.
In my MFA, I’m not only learning to write better (I hope) but read better. Unlike Emerson, I’m not all that convinced that we need more “glancing” reading today, given our habits of distraction and the Internet’s privileging of the short form. Instead, I’m in favor of cultivating the discipline to not simply read a book but to engage it: to ask why a book is or isn’t working; to ask about the book’s central concern and what you personally make of its argument; to seek to make connections between books previously read.
Engaging a book (as I’ve written here before) is a practice of attention—and attention is an essential capacity for anyone wanting to love God and neighbor well. Good reading can cultivate patient listening and the practice of withholding premature judgments. Good reading asks us to engage the most elemental and human questions: what is love and truth and a life well-lived?
In the comments below, I’d love for you to share what you’re reading!
As you know, I’m often sent boosk by publishers and writing colleagues, and I like to share those titles with you. Here are some recent ones I’m excited to mention to you. (And of course, you can certainly read the Transcendentalists, if you like!)
Jesus & Gender: Living as Sisters & Brothers in Christ, Elyse Fitzpatrick and Eric Schumacher. Paul David Tripp writes this in his foreword: “There is evidence in us and all around us that when it comes to our lives together as brothers and sisters in the body of Christ, there remains a huge and pressing need for God’s restorative deconstructing and reconstructing work.” Given how much we’re hearing about sexual abuse in the church and in parachurch organizations, I think Tripp is absolutely right.
Go and Do: Nine Axioms on Peacemaking and Transformation from the Life of John Perkins, John Perkins and Shane Blackshear. Perkins has been a civil rights leader and Christian minister, and Shane Blackshear is the host of the podcast Seminary Dropout as well as a member of the pastoral team at Austin Mustard Seed. Flipping through the book, I was especially intrigued by the title of Chapter 8: “We Have to Know Our History.” I know there is a lot of debate today about the American story—and I think someone like John Perkins is an important voice to hear tell that story.
Fearing Bravely: Risking Love for our Neighbors, Strangers + Enemies by Catherine McNiel. When I opened this book from the publisher, a half-sheet of paper fell out, and on it was written a list entitled, “People I’m Called to Care For.” That list looks like:
My community
My family
Strangers + Foreigners
Anyone trying to harm me
Anyone who needs help
Anyone who doesn’t belong
Anyone I cannot stand to be around
Anyone I strongly disagree with, including those I believe are damaging my country or my faith.
Do you need more reasons to read this book?
To Be Made Well: An Invitation to Wholeness, Healing, and Hope by Amy Julia Becker. In her most recent newsletter, Becker writes, “This book has been decades in the making. Starting with a mysterious illness as a high school student, and then with back pain as a young mother, I’ve spent years wondering about healing. Eventually, I started reading the gospel stories about Jesus’ healings alongside scholarly commentary, theology, and popular science books about medicine, disability, pain, and healing. To Be Made Well is the result of all those years of thinking and praying and doubting and receiving healing.” Becker is a thoughtful Christian writer, and I am sure this is a thoughtful book.
As always, thanks for taking the time to read here. And here’s another reminder to tell me what you’re reading!
Jen
Hello! I am new to your newsletter but I look forward to it every week!! I am currently reading None Like Him- 10 Ways God is Different from Us (and why that’s a good thing!) by Jen Wilkin
So good!!
Your letter is always a timely treat to savor, grateful to "see" you in my inbox regularly. I usually have a pile I'm working my way through. Two that I'm reading slowly now, Ann Voskamp's recent one, Waymaker, and Home (a compilation of poems) by Christian Wiman.