So Brave, Young and Handsome, by Leif Enger – It’s not as good as his first novel, Peace Like a River, but Enger’s trash is better than almost everyone else’s treasure.

The Reagan Diaries, edited by Douglas Brinkley – Regardless of your opinion of our 40th president, this book will help you understand his heart.

Methland, by Nick Redding – An agonizing look at the sociological, demographic, economic and spiritual aspects of drug addiction in small-town America.

Not for Sale, by David Batstone – The global human trafficking crisis told through the stories of several of its victims. A stomach-turning must-read.

The Lost World of Genesis One, by John Walton – A readable exploration of how Genesis 1’s Ancient Near Eastern readers/listeners may have understood the creation narrative.

The Language of God, by Francis Collins – The head of the Human Genome Project—also an evangelical—explores God’s fingerprints in biology.

Finally Alive, by John Piper – An important exploration of the new birth that exposes modern evangelicalism’s lack of precision in understanding God’s work of redemption.

The Pianist, by Władysław Szpilman – You probably saw the Palm d’Or-winning film when it was released nearly a decade ago. The book is even better.

Tortured for Christ, by Richard Wurmbrand – The convicting, disturbing, inspiring memoir of the Romanian pastor and Voice of the Martyrs’ founder.

Isaiah, by Raymond Ortlund Jr. – I read this commentary as I was working my way through Isaiah. Profound, pastoral, theologically sound exposition of the gospel in Isaiah.

One of the books I read over my Christmas vacation was John Walton’s The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate—highly recommended for anyone unsatisfied with the major interpretations of Genesis 1: Young Earth Creationism and the Framework, Day-Age and Gap Theories.

For instance, Young Earth Creationism (YEC) had become increasingly problematic for me, as I read about the geological and astronomical evidence for an ancient universe and began to ponder the theological significance of living in a cosmos that was created 14 billion years before my arrival. Additionally, I did not see an exegetical necessity for a 6,000-year-old earth and found increasingly problematic YEC’s extreme attempts to reconcile scientific evidence with their biblical interpretation.

Although it is built on solid Ancient Near Eastern scholarship, Walton’s book is brief and highly accessible to the average reader. The core of his argument is this: The author of Genesis 1 was not attempting to argue that God created the material substance of the universe—his ancient readers would have all assumed this to be true. Instead, Genesis 1 is an account of God’s ordering and arranging the cosmos into a temple which would reflect His glory and from which He would rule. With this view, Walton argues, it is unimportant whether one believes the universe is 6,000 years old or 14 billion years old, because this is simply not what Genesis 1 is about.

I know I’m a bit late to the game with this book, but better late than never. Tim Keller’s The Prodigal God is a quick read, but it is both deep and convicting—particularly for those of us who have grown up in the church (the “older brothers” in Jesus’ parable of the two sons.)

For years I’ve accepted the premise that Keller argues in the book: that the famous parable is at its core an indictment on the self-righteous ones who refuse to rejoice at God’s extravagant and “prodigal” love for the lost. But Keller takes the argument further to expose the uncomfortable implications of the parable: that neither of the sons really love their Father and that only one is restored to fellowship in the end. If we really understand the story as Jesus intended it, it will likely offend our sense of common decency.

As Keller argues, if the gospel is like a lake, there is probably no other part of the New Testament in which the bottom of the lake can be more clearly seen than in this parable. It is a story about the devastating consequences of moralism and self-righteousness. Unless decent, upstanding “Christians” like you and me repent of our wretched tendency to think that we deserve God’s love because we follow His rules, we will end up like the older brother, watching our Father celebrating with prostitutes and tax collectors while we sit outside the gates sulking—and even hating Him for it.

Today I finished The Reagan Diaries, a compilation of Ronald Reagan’s diaries from his eight years in office, edited by Douglas Brinkley. Reagan is the first political figure I remember, and I remember him well, even though I was very young when he began his first term. Here are a few unexpected things I discovered in his diaries:

Reagan hated war: Although he is often portrayed as a warmonger as a result of his hard statements against communism, his diary reveals a true fear of the potential of war with the USSR and a genuine desire to do everything in his power to avoid it. However, for better or worse, he believed the best defense against Russian aggression (whether real or imagined) was a solid nuclear arsenal, in spite of what he seemed to understand was the obvious consequence if a war ever started: MAD.

Reagan was a persuader: He genuinely believed–whether dealing with Sam Donaldson, Jesse Jackson, Mikhail Gorbachev, House Speaker Tip O’Neill or his own self-described liberal children Ron and Patti–that all he needed to do was get in a room with them and he could make them understand his position. It apparently hurt him when he was accused of being a racist, warmonger or anti-environmentalist, and he would often make personal calls and set up meetings with opponents to hash out differences in a constructive manner.

He had compassion. He frequently describes his deep emotion at meeting with sick children, wounded soldiers or people who had lost family members in disasters or war. Often his efforts in promoting freedom overseas were inextricably intertwined with his frustration at the way individual people were being treated under dictatorships or in other oppressive societies. He also seemed to care for people’s souls. In one interesting account, he expressed deep concern for Nancy’s unbelieving father who was on his deathbed and noted that he was looking for an opportunity to ask him about his eternal condition.

He loved freedom. Like a thread throughout the entire book, Reagan’s core obsession was extending freedom around the world. It was something he believed in–sometimes with a childlike naivete: Not only did he believe in it, but he assumed that it was a shared value of humanity. It informed every interaction he had with communist leaders and it animated his foreign and domestic policy.

My latest reading has been two important books, The Starfish and the Spider and Groundswell. Both discuss the growing phenomenon of decentralization, specifically as it relates to organizations/businesses and media. In other words, power and influence are being distributed to “the little guys” through wikis, social networking, blogging, etc. (as Groundswell points out), and the same should be happening in business, as leaders delegate idea generation, creative control and ultimately executive responsibility to their teams (as The Starfish and the Spider advocates). A similar argument was made by Dennis Bakke in Joy at Work–Dennis only allowed the executives at his multi-billion dollar company to make two decisions per year. All the rest had to be delegated to managers and team members. Of course, all this makes for good talk, and many organizations boast of decentralization. But I’ve discovered that actually making it happen is tough, for at least one reason: me.

“I’ll just do it myself,” is something I’ve always found myself thinking–and sometimes even saying. But, that statement is loaded with hubris (i.e. “I can do it better than anyone else”), impatience (i.e. “It will take too long for you to do it”) and selfishness (“I don’t want to show you how to do it, because then you’ll be one step closer to stealing my job”). Ultimately, it’s an attitude that harms ministries and organizations because it consolidates knowledge and skills in individuals rather than teams, it makes continuity tough during transition and it assumes that leaders are better at certain things simply because they’re leaders. It’s an attitude that feigns industriousness by always being busy but rarely empowering others to excel. It’s an attitude that feigns responsibility by always assuming the burden of decision making, but rarely entrusting others with challenging solutions. Simply put, it’s a sure-fire way to make yourself burn out and your team rust out. Either way, what a waste of resources.

The solution? Every day, I’m exploring how I can empower someone to make a decision that I would normally make, to discover a solution I would normally attempt to solve alone or begin to learn a skill that I’m not all that good at anyhow.

Some people think I’m Irish (because of my last name, of course). I’m not, but Thomas Cahill’s great book How the Irish Saved Civilization makes me wish I were. [HT to Ted for the recommendation.] Anyhow, one of the most engaging aspects of Cahill’s book is his lengthy discussion of St. Patrick, whom he suggests may be the first real missionary after Paul. There were others of course, but Patrick’s the most documented–and the most shrouded in legend. A few interesting points …

• He was initially an involuntary missionary–born a Brit, captured by Irish raiders and dragged to Ireland as a young slave. Later, after escaping, he received a vision from heaven and returned to the land of his captors to evangelize them.
• As a missionary, he actively campaigned against inter-clan violence and the slave trade in Ireland–and saw it abolished in his lifetime, 1300 years before Christian leaders like Wilberforce saw any fruits for their efforts in considerably more “civilized” Britain.
• He baptized an estimated 100,000 converts and planted hundreds of churches in Ireland–all this from a barely-literate swineherd who was turned down the first time he approached his church leaders with his vision of reaching Ireland.

“I am Patrick, a sinner, most uncultivated and least of all the faithful and despised in the eyes of many.” – St. Patrick, died A.D. 461

I wasn’t intentionally doing any research on “evil” lately, but an article, two books and a film and a book of the Bible have all presented a perfect storm of insight on evil (and how God deals with it):

First, N.T. Wright’s wonderful little book, Evil and the Justice of God, explores the theodicy issue in a very readable manner. The core truth I came away with: Evangelicals (and political figures, when it’s convenient) have a habit of talking about “evildoers” as the others … a category separate from us as good people. Yet, this marginalization of evil is incorrect and unbiblical. God is clear that the thread of evil runs through every culture, government, institution and individual and must be addressed straightforwardly as my problem. …

Next, Elephant, an independent film inspired by the events of the Columbine shootings, explores the last day of two teenage killers–and their victims. It’s not an enjoyable movie, but it unflinchingly demonstrates how the narcissism and cliques in high school culture can become a breeding ground for appalling evil. I was struck again with admiration for the youth pastors and teachers who reach out to kids on the brink of such rage and self-destruction. Who knows what evil they hold back!

I wouldn’t recommend reading this article in the Dallas Observer, about a demon-possessed “pastor” in Fort Worth who abused countless women for 25 years. Suffice it to say, it’s disturbing to be reminded that evil of this magnitude can be found in the place where people should be going for safety and restoration.

Another great little book is Forgiving the Dead Man Walking, by Debbie Morris. Andy and I both read this and were inspired by the author’s account of being kidnapped and raped by two escaped inmates–and her harrowing journey to wholeness. It was amazing to see the power of forgiveness to overcome the effects of evil.

Finally, in reading through the minor prophets, it’s clear that God often sends unlikely voices to stand up against evil. It’s almost comical to imagine that anyone took Amos seriously at the time–a shepherd/prophet from the backwater village of Tekoa, in Judah, railing against the injustice and immorality of the neighboring kingdom of Israel, recounting visions of earthquakes and disaster in a time of unprecedented prosperity.

“Who does he think he is coming up here and talking like this to us … ?!”

One of the more disturbing books I’ve read so far this year is A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier, by Ishmael Beah. A victim of the civil war in Sierra Leone, Beah was orphaned at 12 and left to fend for himself in a rural part of his west African homeland. Eventually, he found refuge in a village protected from rebels by a squad of the Sierra Leonean army. When the village was in danger of being overwhelmed by rebels, Beah was conscripted (along with several other boys in the village), given an AK-47, drugged with amphetamines and pot, brainwashed with Rambo movies and initiated into life as a soldier.

By the time Beah was removed from the war several years later by UNICEF, he had become a heartless killing machine who had lost count of the number of men, women and children he had tortured and murdered. After being “rehabilitated” and “repatriated” into civilian society, Beah was adopted by a woman in New York, where he went to high school and now lives and works as a human rights advocate.

Throughout the narrative, those rehabilitating Beah would assure him, “It’s not your fault,” in an effort to get him to forget his past. However, these platitudes seem simplistic and did not ring true to me, only reinforcing the difficulty of addressing such human depravity apart from a biblical worldview that confronts both the sins committed against us and the sins that we commit in response. Are child soldiers guilty? When should they be held accountable for war crimes? When they’re seven or seventeen? I’m sure their dismembered victims’ families would have a different answer than I would.

Ultimately responsible are the depraved individuals who place guns and bayonets in the hands of children. However, apart from an encounter with the cross, self-redemption will be fleeting for the victims and the perpetrators of these atrocities–particularly when the line between the two is so fuzzy.