Books on writing bore me. Either they focus too much on grammatical do’s and don’ts or they exalt the intangible features of good writing that are caught, not taught. That’s why most writing books leave me with a passionate desire to write more – not because they’ve inspired me but because I’d much rather go ahead and write than read another boring book about writing.

Doug Wilson’s brief book Wordsmithy: Hot Tips for the Writing Life is a delightful exception. Wilson only has seven exhortations for us writer-wanna-be’s, and he delivers them in two pages. That’s right. In two pages, you get the gist of the book, but those two pages will whet your appetite for what the rest of the book delivers.

Reading Wordsmithy is a lot like savoring a meal at the same time you are learning to cook. As you learn how to mix up the ingredients that make for good writing, Wilson dons his chef’s hat in order to properly demonstrate all that he is exhorting you to. In other words, you won’t leave the table hungry.

After reading Wordsmithy, I sent Doug a few questions about writing. Here are his answers:

Trevin Wax: When did you first begin to write?

Doug Wilson: I remember wanting to “make books” around the sixth grade. And I think I wrote my first poem around the same time (it was about a sea anemone). But I did not seriously begin to write until after my stint in the Navy, when I was around 22.

Trevin Wax: Have you always found joy in the writing process? Or is joy something that has developed over time?

Doug Wilson: When I began to set myself to writing, my initial efforts were pretty stiff and cardboardy. But I wanted to do it and wanted to learn how to do it.

I think that I knew from the beginning that joy was the point. My wife already had her degree in English Lit, and I was a philosophy major. She knew how to type, and at the time I didn’t, so she would type out my papers for me. I must have set myself to making it interesting early on because I remember her telling me that I couldn’t put things “like that” in an academic paper. I had enjoyed reading lively writing from the time I was in high school (C.S. Lewis, William F. Buckley, et al.), and I knew I wanted to move in that direction if I could figure out how. Other models came later – e.g. Wodehouse, Mencken.

Trevin Wax: One of the takeaways from your book is that writers should know the rules of grammar but also be willing to bend them. Are you a word fusser or a word libertine?

Doug Wilson: I would say I am a fusser on the basics and a libertine around the edges. To illustrate, I think table manners are essential to civilized life, but if the court of Louis XIV demands 22 salad forks, my sympathies move to the antinomians.

Clear thinking and clear writing go together, and the rules of grammar are (for the most part) dedicated to keeping things clear. When they begin to obscure that clarity and become counterproductive, then it is time to remember that man was not made for the Sabbath.

Trevin Wax: What’s the correlation between good reading and good writing?

Doug Wilson: Good reading is foundational. Constant exposure to that which is undeniably good helps train your ear. It helps train you to throw out things that are guilty of no writing “sin” but that are equally free of any virtue. A melody can be dull without breaking any musical laws, and writing can come off like it was written by a committee without parts or passions. Reading good stuff educates a future writer in the intangibles.

Trevin Wax: What’s your take on the current state of the “blogosphere”? Do blogs help us write better?

Doug Wilson: Some blogs are great, of course, but most of that world is just noise. And most of the really good stuff is going to find its way into print. Blogs are a way for a prospective writer to make it in the minors.

The best thing about blogs is that they provide a dedicated writer with an occasion to crank it out in a disciplined fashion. If he gets good, his blog will get noticed, or his writing talents will be. But this only works because this part of our world is like the rest of the world. Cream rises, which only works if it is not all cream.

Next week, I’m taking the Miller Analogies Test (MAT), a test that many universities, colleges, and seminaries require for students seeking to do a doctorate. Studying for the MAT has been interesting, to say the least. The key to doing well seems to be a broad but superficial knowledge of a great number of subjects and the ability to easily spot associations between those subjects.

Part of my study has focused on the meaning of foreign language expressions common in English academic writing. In my own writing, I try to keep from using these, since many people don’t know exactly what they mean. But since they do show up in plenty of books and articles, I thought it might be helpful to provide some common “foreign language expressions” and their definitions. In case you’ve scratched your head before, wondering what a phrase means, well… next time you’ll know!

• a posteriori - based on inductive reasoning
• a priori - based on deductive reasoning
• ad hoc - for a specific purpose
• bona fide - in good faith; genuine
• carpe diem - seize the day
• carte blanche - unrestricted power; literally, “blank document”
• caveat emptor – let the buyer beware
• de facto - actual
• de jure - by right; technically true
• deus ex machina - contrived device to resolve a situation; literally, “god from a machine”
• ex post facto - after the fact; retroactively
• fait accompli - an accomplished fact; a done deed
• faux pas - social blunder; literally, a “false step”
• ipso facto - by the fact itself; as an inevitable result
• mea culpa - I am to blame
• modus operandi - method of operating
• mot juste - the appropriate word
• non sequitur - something that does not logically follow
• nota bene - note well
• persona non grata - unwelcome person
• prima facie - on the face of it
• quid pro quo - an equal exchange; literally, “this for that”
• schadenfreude - enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others; literally, “harm joy”
• sine qua non - something indispensible; literally, “without which not”
• sui generis - one of a kind
• tabula rasa - a blank slate
• weltanschauung - a comprehensive apprehension of the world; literally, “world view”

- taken from the Kaplan MAT Study Guide

What has exceedingly hurt you in time past, nay, and I fear to this day, is want of reading.

I scarce ever knew a preacher read so little. And perhaps, by neglecting it, you have lost the taste for it. Hence your talent in preaching does not increase. It is just the same as it was seven years ago. It is lively, but not deep; there is little variety, there is no compass of thought. Reading only can supply this, with meditation and daily prayer. You wrong yourself greatly by omitting this. You can never be a deep preacher without it, any more than a thorough Christian.

O begin! Fix some part of every day for private exercises. You may acquire the taste which you have not: what is tedious at first, will afterwards be pleasant.

Whether you like it or not, read and pray daily. It is for your life; there is no other way; else you will be a trifler all your days, and a petty, superficial preacher. Do justice to your own soul; give it time and means to grow. Do not starve yourself any longer. Take up your cross and be a Christian altogether. Then will all children of God rejoice (not grieve) over you in particular.

- John Wesley to John Premboth on August 17, 1760, quoted in Ben Witherington’s Is There a Doctor in the House?: An Insider’s Story and Advice on Becoming a Bible Scholar, pg. 71.

Today, I’m happy to welcome my friend Tony Reinke to the blog to discuss his important new book, Lit!: A Christian Guide to Reading Books (Crossway, 2011). I had a chance to read a pre-release copy of this book, and I offered this endorsement:

“How to read, what to read, who to read, when to read, and why you should read—Tony Reinke answers all these questions and more in this very good and (surprisingly) brief book on reading. As he shows how reading can bring glory to God and growth to the church, Reinke encourages Christians to take up the discipline of reading widely and wisely.”

Good reading isn’t just about finding good books. It’s knowing how to read the good books you find. So let’s hear from Tony as we consider ways to improve and increase our reading.

Trevin Wax: What are the different ways one should read a book? Why should certain books be read one way and other books read another way? And how can you tell the difference?

Tony Reinke: Excellent questions, Trevin. I do think books should be read differently, with different degrees of completion and at differing speeds. We must read Scripture carefully and cover to cover. But all other books can be approached differently. I may read the book completely through. Or I’ll read one chapter. I may read the books very quickly. Or I’ll read them slowly.

Trevin Wax: Why the different approaches?

Tony Reinke: The most simple answer is that I read different books for different reasons. Partly this is determined by what I want my books to accomplish. For that I use a series of reading categories that set my personal reading priorities in place. Six categories frame my book choices:

1. Reading Scripture
2. Reading to know and delight in Christ
3. Reading to kindle spiritual reflection
4. Reading to initiate personal change
5. Reading to pursue vocational excellence
6. Reading to enjoy a good story

With these categories I can evaluate my books on the basis of how well they accomplish these tasks. Some books promise to help address one of these particular topics, and I may read it from cover to cover fairly slowly. Some books may have a chapter or two that will help answer some particular need in my life, so I’ll read just those chapters. Some books I read all the way through but at a fairly quick pace, often because the book is predictable or overlaps with other books I’ve already read. And some books, after having given them a fair shot, fail to prove their worth. And those are books I’ll stop reading. So how I read a book is largely decided by what I expect to get out of the book personally, even if I’m just reading for fun (category 6).

Trevin Wax: How much time and attention should we give to classic literature? 

Tony Reinke: I aim to give classic literature a fair bit of time in my reading diet, but that reflects the deficiency of my personal educational experience. I’m reading a number of classics simply to catch up, or so it seems that way. My awakening to the value of classic literature as a Christian can be traced back to my reading of Leland Ryken’s book Realms of Gold: The Classics in Christian Perspective. In Realms of Gold, Ryken guided me through The Odyssey by Homer, Canterbury Tales by Chaucer, Macbeth by Shakespeare, Paradise Lost by Milton, The Scarlet Letter by Hawthorne, Great Expectations by Dickens, The Death of Ivan Illych by Tolstoy, and The Stranger by Camus. Through his book, Ryken helped me to see the benefit of classic literature. To him I remain indebted.

Trevin Wax: How have you found classic literature to be spiritually beneficial? 

Tony Reinke: In two ways. First, there’s a spiritually reflective benefit to reading classic literature. After reading the many excellent excerpts you posted on your blog from the Julie Rose translation of Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, I bought a copy, brought it to our annual June beach trip, and read the first 200 pages. Page after page, Bishop Myriel reminded me of Christ’s humility and sacrifice and compassion, to a degree that I was not expecting at first. The selflessness of Hugo’s character reminds us of how sacrificing our comforts and treasures can be used as a doorway for God to reach fellow sinners. The bishop’s character frequently led me to reflections about the kindness of the Savior. And that’s one of the most important uses of classic literature. I want to see Christlikeness on display. I want to see the fruit of the Spirit in action. And I want to be perceptive to godliness on the page because, as I explain in Lit!, the fruit of the Spirit is subtler and much easier to miss than the fruit of the flesh. So I read classic literature for spiritual reflection.

Second, there’s also a utilitarian benefit to reading classic literature. As someone whose nose is always in the social media (blogs, Facebook, Twitter, etc.), I find that my attention gets broken up and fragmented on a daily basis. Over time I lose my concentration and find it hard to read serious books. For me classic literature is the remedy, and Shakespeare in particular. Shakespeare is a daunting read for me. Most of what he wrote was intended for a stage-play in the first place, not the reading chair. So when I begin to sense that my attention is becoming fragmented, I pick up Shakespeare’s works (the Jonathan Bate edition). In order for me to track with his works, I must pause at every antiquated word and look up the definition at the bottom of the page until the meaning becomes clear. To do this requires that I slow myself down and read with sustained concentration for 20-60 minutes. Rushing is not an option. As a result, I find that when I turn to read my Bible, I read it with much greater care and attention, able to once again focus my attention more carefully on each word and phrase that I read. So Shakespeare recalibrates my reading pace, restores my fragmenting brain, forces me to slow down, and ultimately helps me to read my Bible more carefully. I need that.

Trevin Wax: You recommend marking up books. Why?

Tony Reinke: I certainly do. So many Christians treat books as taskmasters. Most Christians have a stack of unfinished books in their house, maybe on a desk or a bookshelf. Those unfinished books are often a source of low-grade guilt. We’ve been conditioned to think that if we buy a book, we must read it from cover to cover. That’s not true, and I’m trying to loosen Christians from this misunderstanding of what is really a subtle form of slavery to books.

Apart from Scripture, all other books are optional reading. In fact, all other books are tools for us to use in our lives as we see fit. We use books when we need them. This means that we can read books cover to cover if we wish. Or we can read one chapter, or one page. It’s our call. By writing in a book, I claim the book as a tool. I own it; it belongs to me; it was purchased to serve me, and its value to me as a tool far exceeds its resale value. This does not give me license to ignore the truth God teaches me in my reading, but it does liberate me to see books as gifts from God, not as taskmasters. And that’s a very important stage of development for Christian readers.

Of course, I mark all sorts of things in my books, but fundamentally it is a claim of ownership, a claim that reminds me that my books are my tools and that I am not enslaved to them.

Trevin Wax: Name a few novels that you’d recommend Christians consider reading.

Tony Reinke: I really try to avoid giving out too many book recommendations since everyone’s tastes will be unique and different authors will make different impacts on various types of readers. But of course, a few excellent titles come to mind.

The seven books in the Narnia Chronicles by C. S. Lewis are very important, especially if you want an overview of just about everything Lewis really believed was important (according to Alan Jacobs). I believe it.

Also, The Lord of the Rings is wonderful. As Tim Keller has said, Tolkien’s epic wonderfully illustrates important but often very abstract themes like glory, brilliance, weightiness, beauty, excellence, and virtue. Those themes are not commonly illustrated.

And of course, John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress is a classic. Bunyan is able to sketch out just about every type of person you could imagine seeing in this world – or more painfully, character traits that you may see in yourself – and presents them in striking detail and always in relation to eternity.

I would add Gilead by Marilynne Robinson to the list too. It’s a subtle and beautifully written novel by one of the best contemporary Christian novelists.

Trevin Wax: How can we read discerningly from Christians in other theological streams?

Tony Reinke: I think the key is to read selectively. For me it again goes back to keeping my reading priorities straight. First, I must invest sufficient time reading Scripture directly (1). There’s no substitute here. Next I choose excellent and trustworthy books on the person and work of the Savior (2), books by the likes of Packer, Stott, Piper, Carson, Ferguson … we have lot of great ones to choose from (your books included, Trevin!).

These two reading categories anchor my soul and hold me steady when I read everything else. With those anchors in place, I have a fair amount of flexibility to read from writers that represent a broad spectrum of theological views. My focus on Scripture and the orthodox gospel provides me with spiritual protection when I venture out to read books from other theological streams. Without these reading categories in place, I would never attempt to read as broadly as I do.

Second, with my categories firmly in place, I can then look to different authors to fill specific categories in my reading diet. So for example, I’m not reading Peter Kreeft for my ecclesiology, but I do want to read his book on logic (5). I’m not reading G. K. Chesterton to learn reformed theology (2), but I do read him to think about the effects of modern life on the soul (3). And I’m not necessarily turning to C. S. Lewis to discover new depths to the atonement of Christ (2), but he’s one of the first authors I turn to when I need fresh courage to battle personal sin (4). Knowing which authors cater to specific reading priorities has been really helpful.

I’m not a gadget guy. Unlike some good friends of mine, I can walk into any store without salivating over the newest electronic toys. Knowing there is an iPad2 does not decrease my contentment with iPad1. My older-model Blackberry smart phone still works just fine for me, though I admit the new models look pretty neat.

Even though I’m not one who just has to have the latest technological marvel, I do enjoy tools that help me do other things well (read, connect, write, etc.). Late last fall, my church gave me an iPad as a going-away gift. My pastor knew that I wouldn’t be one to go out and buy one, so he thought it would be nice for the church to treat me to the new Apple tablet.

After a few weeks, I wrote down my initial impressions of the iPad, remarking on its battery life, the multiplicity of features, ease of use during travel, and the stunning visual display. The iPad was like a mini-computer for me. I bought some eBooks and dipped my feet into the pool of e-reading for the first time.

After a couple months, I noticed that I was using my iPad mainly when going on trips. It became primarily an e-Reader for me in airports and hotel rooms. The iPad became a travel companion. I used it less and less at home and more and more on the road, mainly for reading.

Then, earlier this summer, everything changed. I was sitting next to a guy on an airplane who was switching back and forth between an iPad2 and a Kindle. I asked, “Why would you need a Kindle if you’ve already got an iPad? Everything you want to do on the Kindle you can do on the iPad.”

He replied, “The iPad is great as a mini-computer. But when it comes to reading, the Kindle knocks it out of the park.” He then proceeded to mention a few reasons why the Kindle was a superior reading device.

Needless to say, I was intrigued. A couple weeks later, my wife and kids got me a Kindle for my birthday. I downloaded a few books and started using the Kindle on my bus ride into work every morning and afternoon. Since that time, I have largely replaced the iPad with the Kindle. The man on the plane was right.

As an e-Reader, the Kindle beats the iPad. Here are the reasons why:

• Easy on the Eyes: I thought the talk of the Kindle’s natural screen to be overblown until I started using it myself. I quickly realized why my eyes had gotten so tired so fast with the backlit screen of the iPad. The screen of the Kindle is indeed like reading a book page.
• Focused on the Book: The Kindle is an e-reading device, period. It does one thing only, but it does it well. Pick up your Kindle and you lose yourself in the world of reading. The content stands out, not the impressive features of the device. With the iPad, e-reading is just one of the many features, which means that there are any number of distractions from keeping your nose in that eBook.
• Light and Easy: The Kindle is lighter than the iPad. Sometimes, I stand on the bus on the way to work, which means I’ve got to use one hand to hold on to the rail. I wouldn’t be able to hold an iPad with my other hand and easily click the pages. The Kindle’s size and weight make it easy to read anywhere.
• Cost: The iPad costs more than $500 compared to the Kindle at $114 (or $139). That’s not to say the iPad is overpriced. It does have more features, after all. But the Kindle excels at doing one thing – providing a reading platform.

Today’s post is contributed by Darryl Dash, a pastor who blogs regularly at DashHouse.com.

When our doctor moved, we could have followed her. Instead, we stayed with the new doctor that took her place. A friend of mine said this about the new doctor: “He’s a doctor who reads his journals.” I like that. I want a doctor who goes home at night and continues to read and learn.

I can imagine that there are days that the doctor would rather watch a game than read another journal. Maybe he does some days. I can also imagine that there are competing journals for doctors with articles about “Ten Skills for Growing Your Practice” and “Team Dynamics.” But I’m glad that my doctor reads articles about chronic Achilles tendinopathy and Enteric fever. I want a doctor who reads his journals.

Pastors, like doctors, face the temptation not to study. There’s little short-term payoff for study. Nobody in my church is begging me to read Calvin’s Institutes or John Frame’s The Doctrine of the Word of God. In fact, they roll their eyes if I talk about these books too much. They have no idea how much they need me to read them.

Pastors can spend lots of time reading about the practical skills of ministry. In The Art of Pastoring, David Hansen talks about how-to books on how to preach, how to administrate, and so on. He writes:

“They didn’t help me… They assumed that I knew what my goal was. They assumed that I knew what I was and who I was.”

Books like this can be helpful in the short term, but they can also reduce ministry to a set of techniques and fads if we’re not careful.

We need more. We need pastors who read journals. I want pastors who know theology, who are reading Bavinck and Edwards and more. Here’s why:

• We need to understand God. I don’t know any pastor who knows God too well. The best thing that I can offer my people is a better understanding of who God is and what he is up to. I need journals and books that lead me to a better understanding of God a hundred times more than I need practical books on ministry.
• We need to understand ministry. We need a robust theology of the church, of pastoral ministry, and preaching. There’s more going on than meets the eye. We need a doctrine of anthropology if we’re going to understand people, and a doctrine of sin. We certainly need to understand salvation and all of its implications. We also need to know the same heresies that keep coming up so we won’t be “carried about by every wind of doctrine” (Ephesians 4:14). The more we understand what God’s revealed about ministry, the better we’ll be prepared as pastors.
• We need to understand how to apply all of this truth to real people in our contexts. I love the Puritan picture of pastors as soul physicians. When we understand God and ministry, as well as people’s hearts, we’ll be ready to provide real help to the people within our churches in our sermons, counseling, conversations, and leadership.

I’m not saying that we need pastors who are academics. John Piper writes of the danger of pastors who are too scholarly:

Many pastors, especially those who love the glorious vision of God’s being and beauty and plan of salvation, have a scholarly bent that threatens to over-intellectualize the Christian faith, which means that they turn it mainly into a system to be thought about rather than a way of life to be felt and lived. Of course, it is a system as well as a life. But the danger is that the whole thing can be made to feel academic rather than heart-wrenchingly real. (The Pastor as Scholar and the Scholar as Pastor, p.48)

We don’t need this kind of pastor. But we need pastors who read theological journals and books because they want to provide real and substantial help to their churches.

David Hansen once wrote that two hours of reading Barth, Forsyth, Edwards, or Bonhoeffer on Wednesday saved him hours of sermon preparation on Friday, and produced a deeper, more searching thesis. I imagine that my doctor finds that two hours spent reading journals helps him in much the same way.

We need doctors and pastors who read their journals. I pray for pastors who can provide substantial help for their people because they continue to feast on what God has revealed, and because they’re doing the hard work of translating theological truth in the service of the church.

Today’s post is contributed by Aaron Armstrong, who blogs at Blogging Theologically.

“Have you ever read The Shack?” a pastor once asked me. At the time my wife, Emily, and I had experienced the loss of what would have been our second child and Emily’s near-death due to complications with the miscarriage, and this pastor—a very sweet, loving man—had come to offer us counsel and support.

“I have,” I replied, trying (and largely failing) not to cringe. “There’s nothing there that’s going to be of much encouragement.” As we talked, I explained my feelings on the book, my understanding of God’s purposes in suffering and how He had spent the previous year preparing me theologically to understand it experientially. One of the ways He did that was through my mentors—specifically the dead ones.

But let me back up for a moment. I became a Christian in 2005, back when everyone was still trying to do “church for people who aren’t into church.” I’d been a voracious reader my entire life to that point, so naturally I continued that trend by starting to read Christian books, picking up titles by authors such as Erwin McManus, Donald Miller and a few others who were popular at the time. These books were enjoyable, but just something felt… missing. It wasn’t that the quality of their writing was bad (Donald Miller, for example, is a frighteningly gifted writer) or that there wasn’t anything at all thought-provoking. But as I look back, I realize that there simply wasn’t enough “meat” there to satisfy this intellectual hunger I had. As time went on this feeling intensified.

Then, for reasons I still cannot explain, one day, I picked up a copy of 18 Words by J.I. Packer. And I was blown away as I read page after page of rich, helpful, practical theology. “This is what I’ve been looking for,” I thought. I didn’t realize there was better yet to come.

Reading Packer led me into reading some of his contemporaries, like John Stott and the late Martyn Lloyd-Jones, and present day pastors and authors including Mark Driscoll, John Piper and D.A. Carson. But I wanted to go deeper still, and so I began to investigate some of the men who influenced them—men like John Calvin, Charles Spurgeon and J.C. Ryle. And reading their works, I experienced a rich blend of theology and doxology that I’ve not seen in even the best of today’s authors.

While I’ve learned much about the sovereignty and majesty of God from Calvin and the centrality of holiness from Ryle, it’s from Spurgeon I’ve learned the most. I’m gaining a greater understanding of the absolute necessity of having a mind set on “the things above” (Col. 3:2). Spurgeon’s heavenly-mindedness allowed him to persevere in the ministry in spite of unbearable criticism, deep depression and serious illness. Were his focus on anything but his heavenly citizenship and were he waiting for anything other than Christ his Savior, I don’t know that he would have been able to continue. In all likelihood, the burden of his responsibilities combined with the cruelty of his detractors would have crushed him.

And his example allowed me to come through the trial of losing a child and nearly losing my wife not with a battered spirit, but with a hope resting firmly in assurance that Christ’s kingdom will come and He will make all things right as He ushers in the New Heavens and the New Earth.

This is something that no modern day popular level book has been able to provide, even the best ones. There are many very good and God-honoring books being published today, but the newest works are not always the ones we need. And my fear is that if we, pastors and laity alike, neglect the works of the past—if we take for granted Calvin, Spurgeon, Luther, Ryle, Augustine and so many others—we will become spiritually anemic. We might have emotional experiences, but even the best experiences will leave us feeling empty. We might gain some knowledge, but it may not go beyond our heads.

That’s why we need the insights and experiences of the saints who have come before us. Their experiences and insights offer us opportunities for deep, heart-felt, mind-renewing, life-transforming worship. From their lives, we can see how the gospel at work in and through them to the glory and praise of God. That their writings continue to stand the test of time is itself a gift from God. Let’s gratefully accept the gift.

To help you get started, here are a few books I’d recommend:

All of Grace by CH Spurgeon

Holiness by J.C. Ryle

Abide in Christ by Andrew Murray

Spurgeon: A New Biography by Arnold Dallimore

Aaron Armstrong works as a professional writer and serves as an itinerate preacher in Southern Ontario. He also blogs daily at Blogging Theologically, where his two e-books, Contending and Lessons from Nehemiah, are now available. Aaron and his wife, Emily, have two children and worship and serve at Harvest Bible Chapel in London, Ontario.

I appreciate this counsel from D.A. Carson on respecting the diversity of reading habits among pastors and scholars:

One of the things that thoughtful scholar-pastors will do is preserve time for reflective reading of the best books. You can find out what those books are by having probing conversations with a variety of scholar-pastors who are more mature than you are – but be sure you seek out the opinions of several people, not just one. Through their books, get to know some epochal thinkers reasonably well. Slow down; read, take notes, think, evaluate.

Yet having said these things… I must quickly add that in this domain of reading, there is, and there should be, quite a diversity of legitimate reading practices. Some, more focused than others and perhaps slower readers and sharper thinkers than others, want you to restrict your reading to very good books that you must read slowly. For some readers, I suspect that that is the wisest choice; for all readers, reading some books slowly and analytically is mandated. But I doubt that it is wise to suggest that every scholar should read only good books and only slowly, for once again there is a diversity of gifts and graces.

If you can develop the habit of reading different things at different speeds, you might be wise to

• read some books slowly, evaluatively, and often;
• to read some books briskly, once but comprehensively;
• to skim other books to see what they are saying;
• to dip into still other books to see if they add anything to a discussion or merely say the same old things with a minor twist here and there.

All that is apart from reading some poetry, some serious literature, and even occasional pieces that have no enduring value but that everyone is reading at the moment – not because you want to spend much time there, or should spend much time there, but so as to offer penetrating firsthand comments on material that virtually every literate person in your world knows something about.

Not every scholar-pastor should attempt to do all these things, but those who have the gift, the time, and the energy to do so, and who then offer their “take” on a broad array of literature, become a great gift to those of us who read more narrowly or at more limited speed. Precisely because there is a diversity of gifts, the perspective of Roger Bacon is memorable: “Reading maketh a full man; speaking maketh a quick man; writing maketh an exact man.”

What is virtually never justified, however, is never reading anything slowly, seriously, analytically, and evaluatively, for such reading of good material not only fills our minds with many good things, but teaches us how to think.

- from The Pastor as Scholar and the Scholar as Pastor: Reflections on Life and Ministry

Last year, I challenged Kingdom People readers to set a reading goal in 2010 and I offered some tips for how to reach that goal. Because I chose a high number (100) in the post title, I received some pushback from readers who thought my challenge was unrealistic or unhelpful. I responded by affirming the benefit of setting a goal and clarified that the actual number is not what is important.

This year, I’m not asking the question “Can you read 100 books in 2011?” Instead, I’m asking a different question: “Should you read this many books?” Is it wise to set a high reading goal? Is it beneficial?

John Piper thinks there is benefit in reading less. He encourages us, not to spend less time reading, but to spend more time with fewer books. In Brothers, We Are Not Professionals, Piper writes:

I [do not] want to give the impression that I think there is virtue in reading many books. In fact one of my greatest complaints in seminary was that professors trained students in bad habits of superficial reading because they assigned too many books. I agree with Spurgeon:

• “A student will find that his mental constitution is more affected by one book thoroughly mastered than by twenty books which he has merely skimmed, lapping at them.”

God save us from the allurement of “keeping up with Pastor Jones” by superficial skimming. Forget about “keeping up.” It only feeds pride and breeds spiritual barrenness. Instead devote yourself to boring in and going deep. There is so much soul-refreshing, heart-deepening, mind-enlarging truth to be had from great books!

God forbid I be a Pastor Jones who is feeding pride and breeding spiritual barrenness by challenging people to read more books! Piper’s caution certainly gives me pause. Perhaps instead of challenging you to pick up 100 books, I should encourage you to dig deeply into ten. Pick the best books and live in them for awhile.

Still, there is something about Piper’s counsel that doesn’t sit well with me. I have a nagging sense that reading a large number of books, far from being a superficial and pride-forming habit, can and should be seen as an act of good stewardship. Here are some truths to keep in mind:

1. We are literate.

Compared to many people throughout church history, we are already blessed beyond measure in that we can read at all. Even today, large numbers of Christians do not know the thrill of a daily quiet time in the Word. Reading has long been the privilege of an elite group of people. Today, more and more of us have access to this privilege. We should not take it for granted.

2. We have books.

In the past, literacy didn’t necessarily ensure that you had a shelf full of books. Most readers had a very small library, leading them to cherish the few books they had. When your resources are limited, you return to books. You build a relationship with them over time. You read them again and again, each time finding connections you hadn’t noticed before.

It is very possible that you have more books in your home or office (or Kindle!) than Jonathan Edwards had in his personal library. Try to wrap your mind around that fact! Some of the greatest thinkers in the world have had access to a relatively small number of resources. Yet they knew how to drink deeply and become a fountain of deep thinking for others.

So there’s something very right about Piper’s caution against reading too much. There’s something to be said for immersing ourselves in a just a few sources of fresh, purified water instead of craning our necks to drink as much as possible from the tap. Piper’s mindset is: “You only need a certain amount of water to be refreshed. Choose the water wisely.”

3. Native English Speakers Have a Major Advantage

Still, I can’t shake the idea that for most of us, responsible stewardship will be exercised in our reading of many books. Perhaps a little personal history might shine light on my motivation.

While I was living in Romania, a great love for reading captured my mind and heart. The Christian university I attended had a large library with thousands of good, theological books – most of which were in English. As an American student in a Romanian university, I found it difficult to write essays in my new language (Romanian). However, I quickly realized that I had a great advantage in research: I could absorb information much faster than my colleagues because the best resources were in my native tongue. Gradually, it dawned on me: I was blessed to be literate, blessed to have access to great books, and blessed to be a native English speaker at a time in history when the majority of helpful books were written or translated in my language.

Books were so precious in Romania that the library did not allow us to check them out. They had to remain on the premises. So… during class breaks when everyone else would chill out, I was drawn like a magnet to the library where I would pick up a book and start reading right where I had left off. I still remember where I was sitting when I read The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind by Mark Noll. I remember the desk I sat at while reading The Jesus Quest by Ben Witherington. I remember the months I spent in Jesus and the Victory of God by N.T. Wright, and the couch I sat on as I read D.A. Carson’s The Gagging of God. I perused the sermons of Charles Spurgeon, the works of Francis Schaeffer, the novels of Dostoevsky and the big books of primary source material from the church fathers.

I can’t imagine someone telling me back then to read fewer books. Standing in a large library full of (metaphorically) chained books, I was overwhelmed by the incredible privilege of having access to so many great books in my native language. For me, reading was (and still is) an act of stewardship.

Different Ways to Read

At one level, John Piper’s advice to read more from fewer books resonates with me. We should be on the look-out for superficiality and deep-seated pride in reading. But I wonder if other factors come into play here, particularly – what it means to be a good steward of resources, and how much personality and temperament influences this discussion. While I can’t imagine John Piper reading two or three books a day, I can’t imagine D.A. Carson doing otherwise.

I keep coming back to the thought that there are some books you read, and then there are other books you read. For example, I am currently working my way through G.K. Chesterton’s Orthodoxy. I’m in no hurry. Each page demands my full attention. I would be cheating myself if I read through this book too quickly, and therefore, I will linger in this book for several months. Piper is right. Some books need to be lived in for a time in order to fully come to grips with the glorious truths contained therein. Works by Augustine, Luther, Calvin, Edwards and Barth are not for speed-readers.

On the other hand, there are books that can be digested quickly. In fact, I would be cheating myself if I were to read them too slowly. In the case of many (if not most) books, the reader can quickly come to grips with the main point, consider the author’s perspective, and then move on. Some books deserve careful attention and reflection. But many are practical and easy-to-comprehend. Get what you need and go on.

It’s a shame to wolf down a Ruth’s Cris steak in five minutes. It’s also a shame to spend two hours on a Big Mac. You may enjoy both meals, but you (hopefully) enjoy them in different ways. It’s the same with reading. So…

Be a good steward.

Read to the glory of God.

Thank Him for giving you access to so many good resources.

Use the mind He has given you.

Ask God for wisdom regarding the books you choose to read.

Once you’ve made your choice, maximize the time (whether short or long) you spend in those books.

All right, I confess. I don’t like rating books.

Here at the blog, I rate the books I briefly review for my “Book Notes” feature. Each month, I write a mini-review of a book or two for Christianity Today, and I provide a rating. Amazon.com requires me to post a rating too.

But I don’t like doing it.

Yes, I know that people who skim the blog, magazine, or the Amazon reviews find the rating system helpful in gaining quick perspective as to the value of the book. But the subjectiveness and confusion of the rating system bothers me.

Here’s what I mean. Take a look at how I interpret a five-star rating system:

* = Poor

** = Fair

*** = Good

**** = Excellent

***** = Go out and get this book right now! A masterpiece.

That’s my system. But not everyone reading a review analyzes it the same way I do.

So every now and then, I’ll get an email from an author whose book I rated “good” (three stars) on Amazon. They’ll say, “Trevin, was my book really that bad?” And I’ll say, “Not at all. In fact, I thought your book was good.” Then they say, “But you are hurting my overall rating average!” (Translation: “and my sales”). As a sympathetic author who wants to help another writer out, I’ll up the rating to four stars and console myself by thinking, Most people probably think four stars mean what I mean by “good” anyway.

When writing mini-reviews for Christianity Today, I used to submit “in-between ratings”. (3 & 1/2 stars for one book, 4 & 1/2 for another). Why? Because some books fall into that place between good and excellent. So an extra half-star would be like saying, “Very good.” But CT doesn’t do half-ratings, so they round them up instead.

Then there’s the 5-star rating on Amazon. For the longest time, I held back on giving out a five-star rating unless I thought the book was a masterpiece that deserves to be on everyone’s shelf. Then my own book came out, which I am quite sure is not a classic, but hopefully is at least “good.” And all sorts of friendly readers left me five-star ratings on Amazon. I was grateful for their reviews, even if somewhat confused by how others interpret book ratings.

So now, I want to throw up my hands and ask, Does your five-star rating mean you thought the book was good? Is four stars your way of saying “Something is wrong with this book”? Does a three-star rating mean “Don’t waste your time”?

See the dilemma? That’s why I don’t like to rate books. Especially on Amazon, reviewers tend to polarize based on their gut reactions to the book. If most people like the book, the rating is five stars, regardless as to the merit of the work. That’s why C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity has a five-star average, and so does Holy Subversion. Yet our books are not on the same level. No false humility here; this is reality. One is a classic; the other is (hopefully) good work from a young author.

So the ratings system is flawed, and the bugs in the system really bug me. Because we are so quick to praise anything and everything, we don’t leave ourselves with a way to really praise a praise-worthy book. The best of the best are treated like all the rest. As the little boy in The Incredibles says, “When everyone is special, no one is special.”

What about you? What do book ratings communicate to you? And how do you choose to rate something?