earning your words...

Over lunch today I dove deeper into Hannah Whitall Smith’s The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life. (This book keeps affecting me and I think several of you might be getting it for Christmas.)

I was all excited to share a few of the more beautiful points with all of you, so I looked up a bit of Smith’s history. A quick Google quickly disappointed me. At the top of her references was this entry from The PFO group.

It seemed that they had a few choice things to say about how she REALLY was as a person. Shocker. Because she was “broken” we should take in her thoughts carefully.

First off, we’re all broken. No one’s perfect, but that’s not even my beef. Why would we (especially the church) equate the level of brokenness of a writer with their successes? I mean, they could say the text was improbable (they do), not scriptural (debatable based on your interpretation) even that it is poorly constructed, but to attack her character as broken?

They use a quote from a biography to condemn her: “The truth is that this writer of the best-selling Christian classic The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life had some agonizing experiences with members of her family and went through periods of great discouragement, doubt and even despair” (pg. xiv).

When did perfection become a quality that must be present in order for a Christian author to be worthy enough to write?

This organization’s document states that she doubted. That her marriage was on the rocks. That she went a little far into sexual self-denial. Do any of these things make her opinions any less valid?

Knowing those details of her life makes her book no less true. Consider this from her chapter on "Difficulties Concerning Failures:" “Moreover, we must forget our sin as soon as it is thus confessed and forgiven. We must not dwell on it, and examine it, and indulge in a luxury of distress and remorse.”

I find that truth to be revolutionary. I find it to be scriptural too (Let it be known to you therefore, brothers, that through this man forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you, and by him everyone who believes is freed from everything – Acts 13:38). It’s not untrue because she needed to hear those words too.

This seems like an odd thing to pick at, but it parallels what I’ve been doing today.

*******

I’ve wiled away this Monday editing a document about our spring opera, The Barber of Seville. The original play was written by Beaumarchais, an arrogant narcissist who based the character of Figaro upon himself. The opera was composed by Gioachino Rossini, a man who produced much fruit in his youth, but largely disappeared into adult obscurity, living in an adulterous marriage and eventually dying of a venereal disease. Eww.

What would it be like if we criticized this work using the above standard where brokenness trumps quality? Barber is considered to be one of the most brilliant pieces of comedic opera ever composed. Is it any less amazing because of the messiness of its creators?

Ok, maybe it’s a little too early in the week for an opera reference. How about popular literature?

Look at Jack Kerouac - the man who was the inspiration and muse for brilliant songwriters (Jim Morrison), poets (Bob Dylan) and an entire generation of men and women seeking to live with a purpose.

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!” - Kerouac

He died an alcoholic, routinely used drugs, and as I think the above proves, said true, true things. Does it seem to not matter that he said something as beautiful as this? Couldn’t a Christian have uttered that same phrase – “The only people for me are those…mad to be saved?”

I guess what I’m getting in this Monday afternoon diatribe is that I think this collective brokenness and life experience only makes these creators that much more believable.

*******

So, returning to Smith and our lunchtime together, I know that she's teaching me a lot. That article doesn't change the way I feel about this book. It's pretty cool to me that I can identify with something a Quaker woman wrote 150 years ago. I like the thought that she’s not completely able to live out all her words. That she needed to read what she composed almost as much as she needed to write it.

The brokenness is what makes it authentic and gives her heart. It is what helps me to see a kindred spirit. Because I’m surely not perfect either.