Stephen W. Hiemstra's Blog, page 249

20. Prayers of a Life in Tension by Stephen W. Hiemstra

Good Shepherd,

We praise you for the gifts of Eden—fertile land, food and water, and the security of your presence. Keep our hands busy; guard our minds; and give us hearts that yearn only for you. Forgive us that we are not fit for Eden—that we are not satisfied with your gifts; that we have not valued your presence; that our hands have been idle, our minds set on physical things, and our hearts easily tempted by crass things. Restore us—make us fit custodians of your garden. Set in our hearts a yearning for your presence and in our minds a hunger and thirst for your righteousness that our hands may praise you with good works all the days of our lives. Through the power of your Holy Spirit and in Jesus’ name, Amen.

The Gauntlet

How do you get through your day?

Too often we want to hide from our mornings seeing them as simply another challenge of running the gauntlet—running between lines of vicious people anxious to strike us with whips or sticks as we run, walk, or crawl between them.

Too often we want to pull the covers over our heads and reach out only to grab the television remote or another handful of bonbons.

Too often we simply lack the energy or desire just to be.

How do you get through your day?

I posed this question to people that I run into every day. Maria, an aquatics director at the pool where I swim opined: “When I hit a rough patch, I look to what comes next. I am always looking ahead to the next item in my schedule.” David, a chaplain who works with emergency responders, sees prayer, family support, and being mindful of the presence and contribution of others as important in getting through the day. Suzanne, an hospice nurse and American Buddhist, meditates throughout the day and keeps moving with a diet rich in fruit. Amy and Edwin look beyond circumstances—the call—to find strength to meet the day’s challenges. Edwin, a pastor, asks: “can I offer witness even when I mess up?”

Let me turn to each of these perspectives as they each provide insight into getting through the day.

Maria’s Perspective. One way we get through the day is to rely on habits to structure our time and keep us focused on positive activities. Habits like getting up, taking a shower, having daily devotions, exercising, going to work, eating meals, and going to bed at the same time each day are routine. Things that, for most of us, our mothers encouraged us to do and we accepted them without question.

It is no accident that boarding schools, military organizations, and religious orders all prescribe disciplined daily routines. These routines give meaning to life, promote healthy lifestyles, and build esprit de corps—feelings of pride, community, and group loyalty. Good habits can be reinforced by positive choices in clothing, grooming, and musical affinities.

The classic example of a meaningful life through structure is the monastic life. In the fifth century, Benedict of Nursia (2009) wrote a book outlining rules to govern the disciplined life of monks in his order. Benedict’s rule specified all aspects of monastic life—meals, work, living space, worship, but the focus of his rule was on daily prayer (the breviary) which was held every 3 hours day and night. Interestingly, the discipline established in Europe’s monasteries in the Middle Ages led to the later development of universities and modern institutions, such as the corporation, military organizations, and hospitals.

David and Suzanne’s Perspective. In working as a chaplain, I practiced self-care through constant prayer and things like eating properly and regular exercise. Religious music and faith symbols also provided comfort while walking with people in pain. For many people, the music of our youth—most often religious music—reminds us of a time in life when we enjoyed the uncomplicated warmth and security of family.

Musical reminders—not just religious music—can bring real healing. For example, when working as a chaplain in an Alzheimer’s unit, I met an older man, James, who used to wander up and down the halls all day muttering to himself—he spoke nothing but gibberish. One day I invited James to hear a jazz saxophonist play—he was delighted. While the nurses resisted my taking him, when the music started he stood up, began dancing to the music, and invited several women to join him. More importantly, he began speaking in complete sentences and offered real conversation: the music helped him center and he remained cogent for several weeks.

Amy and Edwin’s Perspective. For many of us, getting through the day means accepting the morning gauntlet as part of our calling and identity.

A gauntlet story figured prominently in the Battle of Balaclava, fought on October 25, 1854 during the Crimean War. British cavalry were mistakenly sent to attack a heavily defended Russian gun position at the east end of North valley. Both sides of the valley, the Causeway Heights to the south and the Fedioukine Heights to the north, were well defended. As the attack unfolded, senior officers realized the orders were mistaken and, believing the attack would fail, they withheld reinforcements. The advance cavalry unit, known as the Light Brigade, galloped down the valley alone prosecuting the attack in spite of cannon fire from three sides, punishing losses, and no support from the remainder of their division. Overtaking the Russian position at the end of the valley to everyone’s surprise, the Light Brigade had to turn and fight their way back out, as other Russian units worked to surround them. Of the 666 taking part in the charge, 110 were killed, 129 wounded, and 32 taken prisoner.

A poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson called—The Charge of the Light Brigade—recorded the battle with these words:

 

Cannon to right of them,

Cannon to left of them,

Cannon behind them

Volleyed and thundered;

Stormed at with shot and shell,

While horse and hero fell.
They that had fought so well

Came through the jaws of Death,

Back from the mouth of hell,

All that was left of them,

Left of six hundred.

 

The Charge of the Light Brigade was a military disaster, but it became a symbol of gallantry for generations of young men.

In closing, the next time you lack energy in the morning and want to pull the covers over your head, remember the charge of the Light Brigade and the day that the gauntlet gave up the glory.

 

References

Benedict of Nursia (Saint). 2009. The Holy Rule of St. Benedict (Orig pub 547). Translated by Boniface Verheyen (1949), OSB of St. Benedict’s Abbey, Atchison, Kansas (Kindle Edition).

Wynne, John J. 2013. The Jesuit Martyrs of North America (Orig Pub 1925 by Universal Knowledge Foundation). Literary Licensing, LLC

 

Self-pity is a horrible thing. Running the gauntlet was the fate of an early Jesuit missionary, Isaac Jogues, in 1641 to the Mohawk, Heron, and Iroquois peoples of New York and Canada who was later canonized as one of the first saints in North America (Wynne 2013, 163).

Matins (12 midnight), Lauds (3 a.m.), Prime (6 a.m.), Terce (9 a.m.), Sext (12 noon), None (3 p.m.), Vespers (6 p.m.), and Compline (9 p.m.).

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Balaclava.

The Charge of the Light Brigade is also the subject of a 1936 Warner Brothers film starring Erol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland directed by Michael Curtiz.

Iwanicki Visits Baghdad and Survives to Tell the Tale

Hugh Iwanicki and Dave Bailey. 2012. Shock and Alarm: What It Was Really Like at the U.S. Embassy in Iraq. North Charleston: CreateSpace.

Review by Stephen W. Hiemstra

Initiated in deception, executed with precision, mortgaged on our grandchildren’s future, terminated in quiet shame, the second gulf war symbolizes a divorce of secular America from engagement in the world and with its own Christian heritage. The legacy of this war that began in March 2003 lives on today in the drone war on terrorists, the growing sophistication of ISIS militants, and the flood of refugees into Europe. When the second gulf war ended in December 2011, no commentators argued that U.S. political objectives had been met in Iraq…or anywhere else in the region.

In the middle of this muddle, Hugh Iwanicki and Dave Bailey’s book, Shock and Alarm, chronicles Hugh’s experience as a contract certified public accountant (CPA) working as an auditor in the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad over the period from October 2008 through September 2009. This corresponds to the late Bush Administration and early Obama Administration when U.S. policy was clearly in motion from a focus on fighting terrorism to a focus on other—primarily domestic—concerns. This backdrop is important both in understanding the remoteness that Iwanicki felt living in the Embassy and the lack of official U.S. interest in the plight of Iraqis in general and Iraqi Christians in particular.

Iwanicki and Bailey essentially written two books. The first book is a travel journal that describes Hugh’s experience of life and death in a war-weary U.S. Embassy in Baghdad. The second book is an interpretation of Islam from the perspective of an American Christian. Let me turn to each topic in turn.

Travel Journal. The purpose of a travel journal to give the reader a fly-on-wall view of life in a different time and place. In this parallel universe within the walls of the Green Zone, office training included defensive driving, how to avoid kidnapping, learning to duck and cover, and basic firearms competency (3-6). Hugh’s raw materials for this portion of the book come from a logbook that he kept and dispatches that he wrote home from his assignment (i).

For the uninitiated, a log book is a notebook with dates, times, who is in the room, and what gets said. For auditors, a logbook is an absolute necessity—the stakes are high; careers are on the line; details matter. A logbook may be the only record of important decisions when policies change, mistakes are made, and blame is being assigned. In this case, Hugh’s logbook offered details for composing some interesting dispatches; lonely nights trapped in the embassy-cum-bunker with nothing better to do that offered him time to compose these accounts.

But this is not a book for fellow CPAs to cherish and analyze. Hugh likes to travel, to have a good time, and to obsess over details—like any good CPA. Hugh’s trip to the Dead Sea is a case in point. He writes:

“The Dead Sea is famous for being one of the saltiest lakes on the planet. What makes it so salty is the fact that it lies at the lowest point on the Earth’s surface, 1,388 below sea level. Water flows in through the Jordan River and other tributaries, but it doesn’t flow out. All it can do is evaporate, leaving its dissolved salt and other minerals behind. Water from the Dead Sea has a salinity of 33%, about 8.6 times the saltiness of ocean water.” (59)

He advises visitors not to shave because the salt gets into your pours and creates the pain of “a swarm of angry bees.” (59) Ouch!  With that happy thought, let’s turn to Hugh’s experience of Islam.

Interpretation of Islam. Hugh’s experience in Baghdad could not have come at a lower point in U.S. relations with Iraq. While he was there, the U.S. presidency was in transition, America was tired of war, and the Embassy in Baghdad was being hit daily with insurgent mortar fire. Think you have had a bad day at the office? If he had then reported a warm and fussy experience with dealing with Iraqi Muslims, his credibility would be non-existent.

Against this backdrop, Hugh’s experience as a Christian working in a Muslim country highlights some daunting fault lines in Christian-Muslim relations.

One of these fault lines has an ancient source: the holy book of Islam, the Quran.  The Quran is confusing and its interpretation is often controversial—especially in verses where the Prophet Mohammed reverses (abrogates) himself. Abrogation itself is a sensitive topic because in Jewish tradition (an influence on Islam) a prophet whose prophecy proves false is to be ignored. Confusion about what the Quran says leads some to see Islam as a religion of peace and others to see Islam as inspiring terrorism—both interpretations that can be made from the Quran itself (156-161).

Another fault line arises because increasing secularization of western nations has led to a secular/religious divide that has no counterpart in Islam.

One example is that Western ideals of freedom of religion allow Muslims to practice their faith without interference in Western counties. Meanwhile, Muslim counties adhere formerly (or informally) to Sharia law which does not allow Christians living in Islamic nations that same level of freedom.  Christian evangelism, for example,  is often a capital offense in Islamic counties. These differences in legal treatment often enjoy widespread and emotional support among individual Muslims (135-136). Secular leaders in the West eager to court Muslim favor and to gain access to resources, particularly oil, downplay these differences and work hard to keep such issues out of the media limelight.

Another example is that secular incursions into the Middle East, such as the Iraq War, often translate directly into religious persecution of Christian minorities. In a worldview not distinguishing secular and religious realms, military defeat is felt as religious defeat. Not surprisingly, reactions often include shame and defensiveness so drawing attention to Christian persecution only intensifies the emotional response and the incentive to persecute further (167-171). Knowing the highly emotive character of this persecution, again, secular leaders in the West work hard to keep this issue out of mainstream media and often cloak it as “ethnic violence” when it does bubble up. Interestingly, these same leaders are quick to criticize Muslims openly when political correctness issues arise.

Clearly, many fault lines arise in Christian-Muslim relations—too many to address in a short review.

Hugh Iwanicki and Dave Bailey’s book, Shock and Alarm, reads well.  As a former federal worker who had also worked abroad and contemplated joining the team in Baghdad during this period, I could feel my feet in his shoes as he recounted his work, daily activities, and social interactions. Other prospective contractors considering a Middle Eastern assignment and tourists contemplating a visit will find this book an interesting and helpful guide.

 

 The United States fought two wars with Iraq under Saddam Hussein. The first war was named Operation Desert Storm (January 17 through February 28, 1991; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gulf_War) where coalition forces liberated Kuwait from Iraqi occupation but stopped short of removing Saddam from power. The second war (March 20 through May 1, 2003; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iraq_War#2005:_Elections_and_transitional_government) known mostly as the Iraq involved an invasion of Iraq and removing Saddam Hussein from power. While these objectives were quickly met, little or no preparation for the post-invasion administration was done and, while the U.S. was setting up a de-facto government, political chaos and an insurgency war developed. A formal military withdrawal took place on December 18, 2011.

[2]Recall the saga of Indian born novelist (Ahmad) Salman Rushdie (himself a Muslim) who wrote a book in 1988 called The Satanic Verses. His novel highlights verses appear in the Quran which the Prophet Mohammed later abrogated (reversed). Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini issued a fatwā (death warrant) calling for Rushdie’s assassination in 1989 and Rushdie went into hiding for a number of years (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salman_Rushdie).

“How may we know the word that the LORD has not spoken? When a prophet speaks in the name of the LORD, if the word does not come to pass or come true, that is a word that the LORD has not spoken; the prophet has spoken it presumptuously. You need not be afraid of him.” (Deuteronomy 18:21-22 ESV)  While this verse may seem to speak clearly to abrogation, a biblical example of abrogation is found in 2 Samuel 7 when the Prophet Nathan reverses himself in giving guidance to King David about construction of the first temple in Jerusalem.

http://www.facebook.com/hugh.iwanicki

 

19. Prayers of a Life in Tension by Stephen W. Hiemstra

Precious Lord,

In our finitude, our sin, our brokenness, we yearn for your righteousness, oh God. As the hungry grasp for bread, as the thirsty cry for water, we search for your justice where no other will do or no other can be found. Through your Holy scriptures, remind us that you are ever-near, always vigilant, and forever compassionate. Through the desert of our emotions and in the wilderness of our minds, bind our wounds and forgive our sins—that our pains would be relieved and our search would not be in vain. Through the power of your Holy Spirit grow our faith even as our strength fails us. Through the blood of the lamb, restore us to your presence. In Jesus’ precious name, Amen.

Joy Riding

“Remember not the sins of my youth or my transgressions;

according to your steadfast love remember me,

for the sake of your goodness, O LORD!” (Ps 25:7 ESV)

My scoutmaster used to say that God has a special place in his heart for drunks and foolish kids. Usually, he accompanied this expression with a story of mindless driving from his youth, but perhaps the adults present heard the expression a bit differently—our camping trips often included dragging along a case of Jack Daniels along the way mysteriously disappeared by weekend’s end. One way or the other, it was when I learned to drive that I started to appreciate the wisdom in his words.

A case in point was my friend, Bob. Bob used to invite me after school to go joy driving with a friend of his who owned a old Plymouth Valiant hand-painted in battlefield camouflage colors—dark green, brown, and gray. This friend loved to drive around curvy county roads as fast as he could. And while we were zipping around the back roads of Prince George’s County he regaled us with stories about police chases and other teenage folly. Never mind that a credibility gap existed between the stories that he told and the horsepower of the old Valiant—they were good stories and we enjoyed our time together.

Up to a point, I was the ideal driving student. I read the textbook cover to cover and scored grades high enough that my instructor used my test scores to curve class grades. However, I did less well once we started driving—the mechanics of driving required other, more mechanical skills which were new to me. Still, when I took the Maryland driver’s test, unlike many of my peers I passed the test on the first attempt.

My experience joy riding and my driving class results never seemed to intersect. Oh, I watched the gory videos of highway accidents produced by the Ohio State Police, but a driver’s license symbolized adulthood and freedom—why were nasty accidents in Ohio even relevant? After all, this was the 1970s—we now had cars newly equipped with seat beats and being a smart guy I always bucked up.

Because I was a serious student and generally responsible young person, my parents generously allowed me to drive more than many of my friends. I seldom abused their trust.

But, at one point a friend set me up with a date one evening and the four of us went together to see a movie. On the way, I entertained my guests by taking them joy riding through Greenbelt Park. Back then, the park was still open at night and the road was unlit; it curved up and down the many hills through the woods providing a perfect night-time roller coaster. So I turned off the car lights and drove in the dark through the park  to the screams of my companions.

The movie was okay, but before it was over it became obvious that my role that evening was more as chauffeur and less as eligible bachelor—I was hurt and offended. To express my pain, on the way home I took off my seat belt which proceeded to buzz—it buzzed and buzzed and buzzed to the distress of my companions and my own delight…

I almost always buckle up my seat belt.

Wilbers Offers Writing Tips to Remember

Stephen Wilbers. 2014. Mastering the Craft of Writing: How to Write with Clarity, Emphasis, and Style. Blue Ash: F&W Media.

Review by Stephen W. Hiemstra

Gutsy. Stephen Wilbers begins Mastering the Craft of Writing with a challenge—read this book twice. In a world where few people read, even fewer read with any depth, and most treat writing books as a sleep aid, any author encouraging a second read might appear delusional. But, on finishing a first read, perhaps gutsy fits.

Wilbers describes himself as a “writing consultant, award-winning author, and columnist”. He has taught at a number of universities and written a number of books on writing—the other one on my desk is Keys to Great Writing (Cincinnati: F&W Publications, 2000).

Mastering the Craft of Writing focuses on 52 writing tips for weekly study complete with exercises and, frequently, a reflection illustrating the tip of the week. Many of Wilbers’ tips proved helpful in drawing attention to fine points in language usage that I was not—as a writer—sensitive to.  Early in his book he focuses on tips relating to clarity; in the middle of the book he focuses on tips about emphasis; and late in the book he focuses on stylistic writing tips.  Let me structure my comments accordingly.

Clarity. For example, the tip for week 1 advises the writer reading to: “Listen to Your Language” (5). Picking a few well-known, book titles, like Ernest Hemingway’s “The Old Man and the Sea”, he teases us with alternative word choices (e.g. “The Elderly Man and the Ocean”) to make the point that word choice matters.

Another example of a clarity tip is found in week 19 where Wilbers lists 5 type of mid-sentence shifts to avoid—

Shifts in verb tense,
Shifts in person,
Shifts in subjects,
Shifts in voice, and
Shifts in modified subject (103-104).

—and cites examples of sentences both with the error and with the error corrected. While I was sensitive to the first two shifts (verb tense and person), the others were new to me. Oftentimes in speaking and writing we make these shifts without giving them much thought even though they muddle our message unnecessarily.

Emphasis. Wilbers’ tips on sentence construction and emphasis were interesting, such as in week 27, where he writes:

 “In the left part of your sentence, concentrate on topic. In the right part of your sentence, manage your emphasis.” (147)

Building on this discussion, he observes in week 29 that subordinate clauses can be used to put a positive spin on bad news—a talent helpful for writers who have daily interactions with the public (157).  This tip makes clear that Wilbers is sensitive to a wider range of writing styles and contexts than most writers, who tend to write for a particular audience and within a particular professional context.

Style. Wilbers offers a number of tips that can add polish to your writing—who can’t use more polish?  For someone, like myself, coming out of a technical writing background, these tips are perhaps the least familiar.

For example, in week 40 Wilbers outlines 4 types of compound sentences:

Balanced (or parallel) sentences have a list of similar elements,
Antithetical sentences are balanced sentences with a contrary element,
Loose sentences begin with a main clause and are followed by parallel elements, and
Periodic sentences have the main clause following the parallel elements (223).

What kind of sentence is this line—

“Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she had to walk into mine.” (222)

—spoken by Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart) in the 1942 movie Casablanca? (Periodic) By placing the parallel elements in the sentence first, a periodic sentence offers a drama introduction to the main clause according to Wilbers (223).

Stephen Wilbers’ Mastering the Craft of Writing is an interesting and accessible read. Even experienced writers are likely to find his advice useful. Wilbers’ challenge to read the book more than once is warranted, if you are like me, because—for the absent minded—practice still makes perfect.

Backcover.  Also see: http://www.wilbers.com.

For example, he teaches at the University of Minnesota.

18. Prayers of a Life in Tension by Stephen W. Hiemstra

Almighty Father,

We give thanks for the gift of faith and the call into ministry which reaches out to our family, friends, and beyond. Guard our hearts in times of weakness, hardship, and temptation. Keep our mind sharp that we offer you our praise with clarity, coherence, and dedication, not tainted by vain desires, cultural confusion, or subtle idolatries. Grant us a spirit of meekness, a spirit of humility seated deeply in our character—not loosely held, superficially worn, or overshadowed by cherished sins. Place in us hearts eager to pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, and gentleness. Give us the strength to a sacrificial hospitality to those around us. In the face of suffering, make your Holy Spirit especially visible that we would not fail in our ministry due to temptations to be relevant, powerful, or spectacular in the eyes of those in our care. In the strong name of Jesus Christ, Your Son and our Savior. Amen.

The Camera

Trust in the LORD with all your heart,

and do not lean on your own understanding.

(Prov. 3:5)

The Camera

By Stephen W. Hiemstra

At age fourteen in the fall of 1967, I began carrying the Daily News to earn money to attend Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico [1] . Because the guys I knew with daily routes seemed older and tougher than me, I feared that I could not handle a daily route and continued to deliver the Prince George’s Post—the Daily News was a serious paper. Not knowing the cost of the camp and buying the required gear—a fancy backpack, a larger canteen, a compass, and a lot of little things—that I did not own, I also feared that I would not earn enough money. In the end, my fears were exaggerated—I earned more than enough to pay for the ticket and the equipment. In fact, I had enough money left over that I was able to buy a range-finder, 35 mm camera—just like my Dad’s.

This camera was neat, but it had smaller aperture and better winding mechanism than my Dad’s camera.  A smaller aperture—1.7 mm verses 2.2 mm—allowed taking sharper pictures. The lever-action, film winding mechanism was faster than the older method which relied on twisting a knob with your index finger and thumb—it was tedious to twist film.

Film—1968 was all about film.

Video clips of Vietnam entered our living room every evening at 6 p.m. On the news, we saw the bodies being displayed, villages being burned, GIs fighting gun battles, and Green Berets jumping out of helicopters in rice paddies. At the time, it all seemed as normal as Hamburger Helper and Jello pudding.

Normal was shattered when the Viet Cong launched the Tet Offensive [2] in January. By March President LBJ [3] was quoting William Tecumseh Sherman: “If nominated, I will not run; if elected, I will not serve.” [4] His March 31 speech shocked everyone and transformed a sleepy presidential election into a horse race. It did not, however, end the war.

Tet exposed American military invincibility as a myth—right there on the evening news. The aura of victory in the Second World War finally faded flat—no one repeated the words, but the images were plain and clear and obvious. GIs died every night on television in a war that would not end and could not be won in the neat little box it had been made for it. No one in authority admitted the obvious truth so the fighting continued.

Television coverage of the war fascinated me: I watched every war movie available and aspired to becoming a fighter pilot.  During those days, I studied aviation, howto books on flying, and learned navigation—especially map reading. But I became increasingly conflicted between my ambitions to become a pilot and my religious beliefs—why did the United States care about Vietnam?  The futility of the war grew more obvious every day—if Vietnam was important why was the military restricted from pulling out all the stops?  If it was a just war, why were religious leaders protesting it?

I could not vote in 1968, but I handed out flyers at the county fair in Upper Marlboro for Richard Nixon—the peace candidate who had a secret plan to end the war. We were so excited, so proud that Nixon picked our Governor, Ted Agnew [5], as his running mate. It was thrilling to see Agnew with the President on the news.

With my new camera, in my own way I felt like a television journalist. My creative interest was people; I mostly took candid shots of friends and family, and mostly in black and white. I loved to develop my own film, cropping and enhancing my photographs in the darkroom.

One exception to my focus on photographing people was my fascination with open windows. Many of my photographs featured windows open to the sunlight and green oaks outside our church.  Open windows symbolized freedom and I felt closer to God in the great outdoors—hiking and camping, even in the dead of winter.

Sammi noticed my interest in photography.

Sammi invited me to photograph THE annual youth group retreat in June. It was after the church strawberry festival and after school let out at a camp with cabins and bunk beds on the Chesapeake bay. I had a job—I had to bring plenty of color film (black and white would not do) and I had to know what and who and when to photograph—because I was the official retreat photographer.

Against this backdrop, photographing Philmont became less important. I remember Philmont—not for the pictures, not for the bears, not for the sore feet, but for a radio broadcast from the moon on July 20th. We listened from the steps of a ranger station on top of a mountain in New Mexico. When astronauts Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin took small steps in a big way.[6]

That I remember.

 

[1] http://www.scouting.org/Philmont.aspx.

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tet_Off... (January 30, 1968).

[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_... (LBJ withdraws March 31, 1968).

[4] http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quo...

[5] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spiro_A....

[6] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon_la... (July 20, 1968).

Moore Crafts the Personal Essay

Dinty W. Moore. 2010. Crafting the Personal Essay:  A Guide for Writing and Publishing Creative Nonfiction. Cincinnati:  Writer’s Digest Books.

Review by Stephen W. Hiemstra

Walking into a dinner of venison leaves one suspicious that you are too late for the hunt. An essay is more about the hunt and less about the dinner, according to Dinty Moore. It is the tension of the hunt that draws the reader in.

In his book, Crafting the Personal Essay, Moore both describes the genre of an essay and how it is constructed. There are, of course, numerous types of essays, each with its own particular interests and contributions to the genre. Moore writes:

“The personal essayist (that would be you) takes a topic—virtually any topic under the big yellow sun—and holds it up the big bright light, turning it this way and that, upside and down, studying every perspective, fault, and reflection, in an artful attempt to perceive something fresh and significant. But it is always an effort, a trial, not a lecture or diatribe.” (5)

The interest here in exploring and describing the world (a protestant or reformation idea) and the focus on the essayist’s particular voice (or insights) suggests that the essay is a product of the romantic era of the nineteenth century. In fact, Moore dates the earliest essay to a Frenchman, Michel de Montaigne, circa 1571 (39)—an antecedent to romanticism. Consequently, the work of the Apostle Paul in the Book of Romans would not qualify as a personal essay, even though there is tension between nature and nurture in his arguments, because he looks for the voice of God rather than trying to develop his own voice as a writer.

Dinty Moore teaches writing at Ohio University in Athens, Ohio and is the author of many books and articles. In Crafting the Personal Essay, Moore divides his advice to the writer breaks into two parts: “writing the essay” and “reaching readers” (vii—viii). Eighteen of his 23 chapters focus on the writing the essay.

Moore’s advice takes the form of description, story-telling, examples, writing assignments, and handicapping his own and other people essays. Many of his chapters, for example, end with a short-list of tips for writers.  In chapter 14, Writing the Humorous Essay, Moore offers these three tips:

“You need a story, not just jokes. If your goal is to write compelling nonfiction, the story must always come first…
The humorous essay is no place to be mean or spiteful…
The funniest people don’t guffaw at their own jokes.” (162)

The different kinds of essays that outlines might make distinct genre in their own right, but add color to as segments of other essays. Much like I might not see myself writing a stand-alone humorous or a gastronomical essay, knowing the basic premise of each helps in throwing a bit of spice into any meal, err—essay!

Although a slow read is appropriate, I found myself anxiously turning the pages to see what would come next. This was especially true in chapter 10 (A Closer Look: Ah Wilderness) where Moore writes about a canoe trip that he took down the Rio Grande River. Moore starts this chapter with a question:

“You can steer, can’t you?” (114)

What an introduction! Can you image being stuck in a canoe for several days with a hyper-active, know-it-all canoe partner?  (At this point, I was having flashbacks to my days as a canoeing instructor in a scout camp). The point is that Moore doesn’t just tell you how to write, he shows you—that is, in fact, one of his tips.

As a lifelong writer, I found his advice on rewriting most convicting. He writes:

“What is required, if your essay and writing skills are going to improve by leaps and bounds, is a total reconsideration of each every element of yours essay.” (220)

It’s like starting a remodeling project by moving absolutely all your furniture and furnishings into the front yard and only bringing back to room items that fit your new concept for the room (220-221). Ouch! That sounds like real work—like typing your dissertation on a manual typewriter before the invention of whiteout type work…

Dinty Moore’s Crafting the Personal Essay is an interesting and helpful read. Writers of all genre and skill levels will want to take a look.

References

Dyrness, William A. 2001. Visual Faith: Art, Theology, and Worship in Dialogue. Grand Rapids:  BakerAcademic.

McGrath, Alister. 2004. The Twilight of Atheism: The Rise and Fall of Disbelief in the Modern World. New York:  DoubleDay.

 

Calivin, for example, writes: “let us not be ashamed to take pious delight in the works of God open and manifest in the most beautiful theatre.” (Dyness 2001, 53).

“For some, the intellectual leaders of society were poets—the ‘unacknowledged legislators of mankind,’ as Percy Bysshe Shelley called them. The poet bore the heavy weight of articulating a moral vision for humanity, grounded in reason and nature, and inspiring a community to yearn for a new and better order…” (McGrath 2004, 50). Instead, what they got were the French and Russian revolutions.

See: Romans: Faith Seeking Understanding (http://wp.me/p3Xeut-lQ).

17. Prayers of a Life in Tension by Stephen W. Hiemstra

Beloved Good Shepherd,

We praise you for your teaching heart and gentle spirit.

We thank you for modeling meekness in leadership

And for your patience with us as we learn.

Heal our hearts, humble our spirits, open our hands

That we might lead with gentleness and hospitality.

Grant us open minds and a teachable spirit

That we might lead those around us only to you.

Through the power of your Holy Spirit,

Now and always, Amen.