Because everyone loves a good story
A Good Friday Meditation
“After they sang a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives” (Matt. 26:30).
It’s such a simple verse—one we’ve probably passed over dozens of times. It’s a brief sentence between the last supper and the crucifixion, so it’s no wonder we don’t often spend much time on it. But did you know that the text to this hymn is right there in the Bible? It’s a psalm of triumph and salvation, both historical and prophetic. That’s why putting these words in the mouth of our dying Savior only deepens my thankfulness and sorrow for all that he suffered for me.
Dramatic Irony
Maybe you’ve heard of the term “dramatic irony” before. It’s used in drama and literature to sharpen the poignancy of a situation in which the audience knows something important that the character doesn’t know. For example, if a character is bragging about his health and wealth and invincible youth as he flies down the road in his sports car, dramatic irony would be our knowing that the bridge is out ahead.
It happens in life as well as literature. For example, have you ever known some terrible news that you haven’t yet broken to your kids? They’re skipping joyfully through the day, playing and laughing as usual, but it breaks your heart to know what’s about to happen. I can’t help but think that’s how Jesus must be feeling as he sings this hymn with his friends.
The Hallel
The Jewish people are very faithful to their traditions. That’s why we know that, at the time of the Passover, Jesus and his disciples would have been singing the Hallel. Hallel means “praise” in Hebrew and refers to Psalms 113-118. These were songs of praise for Israel’s deliverance in the Old Testament, but the exclamations of joy and freedom take on a haunting, tragic shade in light of Jesus’ impending suffering. Some of them are also prophetic about the Messiah who was to come, which heightens the dramatic irony even more. Psalm 116 is an excellent example of this, but I’d like to focus on Psalm 118 since it’s the last thing Jesus sang before walking willingly to his death.
The justice, joy, and salvation spoken of in Psalm 118 were to be horrifically stripped from Jesus just hours after he sang this hymn. All the promises to God’s people were to be withheld from God’s own Son as he paid for their sin. Jesus knows what’s coming as he sings these words, but the disciples still seem to be ignorant. They probably sang it in autopilot or, if they were thoughtful, they would have sung it joyfully at the past salvation of God. But Jesus…I wonder if he could even get through the hymn. He was about to weep so hard in the garden that blood would seep out of his pores. Was he dry-eyed during this ironic, prophetic hymn? I certainly wouldn’t have been.
Psalm 118
The whole psalm is rich with Messianic foreshadowing, but I’ll only focus on a few verses for brevity’s sake. If you have time, though, read through the whole psalm (or the whole Hallel!) this Good Friday. I know it will make you appreciate even more the beautiful, tragic, triumphant plan of God.
5 Out of my distress I called on the Lord;/ the Lord answered me and set me free. Jesus called to the Father in distress, but the answer was silence. God had turned his face away as Jesus took on our sin so that he could answer us in our distress and set us free.
6 The Lord is on my side; I will not fear./ What can man do to me? It was God’s plan that the Father would forsake Jesus so that man could slaughter him. But because He did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, we know that we have nothing more to fear.
17 I shall not die, but I shall live,/ and recount the deeds of the Lord. 18 The Lord has disciplined me severely,/ but he has not given me over to death. Jesus knew he would be given over to death, and he bore it willingly so we could live and recount the Gospel—the greatest deed of the Lord.
19 Open to me the gates of righteousness,/ that I may enter through them/ and give thanks to the Lord. 20 This is the gate of the Lord;/ the righteous shall enter through it. Jesus is the gate through which we enter the presence of the Lord. He was torn open so we could be made righteous and enter through him.
22 The stone that the builders rejected/ has become the cornerstone./ 23 This is the Lord’s doing;/ it is marvelous in our eyes. Jesus was despised and rejected by men, cast out and killed by the religious of his day. All of this was the Lord’s doing in order to magnify Christ as supreme—a marvelous design.
27 The Lord is God,/ and he has made his light to shine upon us./ Bind the festal sacrifice with cords,/ up to the horns of the altar! He made the Light to be extinguished as Jesus, our sacrifice, was nailed to the cross. But he did that so his Light could shine on us eternally.
29 Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;/ for his steadfast love endures forever! Because of what Jesus suffered, we can all sing this together. His love endures forever!
And the most beautiful part of all is that God raised Jesus three days later, making these words not only joyfully historic and tragically ironic but also triumphantly prophetic! Jesus was once again restored to full glory and fellowship with the Father. The Stone which the builders rejected had become the Cornerstone at last. Hallelujah! I hope this psalm encourages your soul today, Sunday, and all year long.
What a Waste, Part 2
In Christian churches, ministries, and circles, serving in 103 capacities at the same time seems to be in vogue. We all know the person who can teach Sunday school, play in the worship band, help in the youth group, organize outreaches, volunteer to lead Vacation Bible School, decorate the children’s wing, and curate the church website all at the same time. And it’s not that there’s anything wrong with serving, or even serving in multiple capacities. But when we find ourselves in that position, it’s a great opportunity to pause and reflect on a very familiar story—the story of Mary and Martha.
We saw last week that Mary gave her most precious treasure to Jesus, worshipfully and unreservedly. But I believe she was able to serve him in such a beautiful way because she had first refrained from serving and instead simply sat and listened. I’ll show you what I mean.
Two Kinds of Waste
See, when Mary broke her alabaster jar of perfume and spent it all on Jesus, the disciples accused her of being wasteful of money. They thought the perfume should have been sold to help the poor. They may also have considered her careless about her future since the expensive perfume was probably the only savings plan she had. But Jesus commended her action, knowing Mary’s heart of worship behind it. So how did she develop a heart so full of worship and thankfulness that she was willing to pour out the security of her future all at once, reserving nothing for a fallback plan? I have a feeling that the answer lies in a previous story.
Our first encounter with Mary is when Jesus attends a supper at Martha’s house. While Martha was distracted with all the preparations for the meal, Mary simply sat at Jesus’ feet and listened to his teachings. Martha was so annoyed at Mary’s absence in the kitchen that she actually approached Jesus and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me” (Luke 10:40). To Martha, Mary was being wasteful not of resources but of time. But once again, Jesus defends Mary’s choice, replying, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:41-42).
Trouble for Type A
Now, to be quite honest, I tend to be on Martha’s side here. I’m a firstborn and a Type A personality through and through. I don’t relax until all the tasks are scratched off my list. If there’s work to do, I’m going to be doing it, and I’m going to be eyeballing you if you’re not helping. That’s why I thought this interaction was rather hard on Martha—after all, someone has to cook at a dinner party, right? It’s not like they could send Lazarus to pick up a Hot n’ Ready.
But then I remembered that, for once in history, it’s not necessarily true that someone had to cook in order for them to eat. I mean, their dinner guest was Jesus! The wine-maker! The bread-breaker! The fish-multiplier! If both women had wanted to sit at his feet and listen, I’m sure Jesus could have provided some miracle food. Or maybe Martha could have kept the meal prep a little simpler. Either way.
The Heart of the Matter
But really, it wasn’t about the cooking or the sitting, was it? It was about the hearts that motivated their choices. Martha chose what seemed most important to her, and so did Mary. The difference was that one of the choices was good and the other was better. Cooking is fine, but I can see Martha chopping the onions with resentment and vigor, building anger toward Mary as she worked. Soon she became so annoyed that she actually accused Jesus of being uncaring and commanded him to make her sister help!
So cooking is good, but listening is better. While Martha is stewing (literally and figuratively), Mary is sitting at the feet of Jesus, listening. We don’t hear much from Mary in this story. In fact, we don’t hear much from Mary at all. In all three stories that involve these sisters, Martha has plenty of lines whereas Mary has only one. But here, Mary doesn’t say a word to defend herself. Instead, Jesus defends her, showing us that serving him is good, but sometimes waiting is better.
God’s Economy
The truth is, God-honoring service stems from God-honoring worship. God is all-sufficient and has no need of us. In Psalm 50:12, he puts things in perspective: “If I were hungry, I would not tell you, for the world and its fullness are mine.” He doesn’t need our service or worship, but we were created to need both. The end of that Psalm states it clearly: “Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving… Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me” (v 14-15). We are called to give him sacrifice and glory not for his benefit but for our own.
Jesus didn’t need the sisters’ service; he wanted their hearts. That’s why, in this instance, sitting was better than serving. My dad was talking recently about the upside-down nature of “God’s economy.” God doesn’t always value or spend in ways that make sense to us. If it were up to us, we would keep the gifted, passionate, godly people on the front lines of ministry where they can impact many people and be used to the full. But God often chooses to move these people from the front lines back to the reserves for a season, limiting their impact and letting them simply sit at his feet again. In his book The Normal Christian Life, Watchman Nee captures this truth perfectly. “We like to be always ‘on the go’: the Lord would sometimes prefer to have us in prison. We think in terms of apostolic journeys: God dares to put his greatest ambassadors in chains” (293).
Always at His Feet
So while Martha found Mary’s choice to be a waste of time, Jesus disagreed. In God’s economy, Mary had chosen the most valuable way to serve him that day—not by doing but by listening. That fueled a love for him resulting in beautiful service to him, and even that service was done at his feet. In fact, all three times we see Mary with Jesus, that’s where we find her. After her brother Lazarus died, Mary threw herself at the feet of Jesus in humble grief. Then Jesus turned her sorrow to joy by bringing Lazarus back to life! This miracle took place shortly before Mary anointed Jesus with her valuable ointment, showing that time spent in humble worship of God results in genuine service for God.
Whether learning, grieving, or serving, Mary was always at Jesus’ feet. It may seem like she didn’t do much, but her choices pleased Jesus. For all the Marthas and Marys out there, let’s be reminded of this precious truth: “The service of the Lord is not to be measured by tangible results. No, my friends, the Lord’s first concern is with our position at his feet and our anointing of his head. …Often enough the giving to him will be in tireless service, but he reserves to himself the right to suspend the service for a time, in order to discover to us whether it is that, or himself, that holds us” (283). Source: Nee, Watchman. The Normal Christian Life. Carol Stream: Tyndale House, 1997.
What a Waste, Part 1
Lazy, impulsive, short-sighted, wasteful. These are just a few ways she could have been described by those who knew her. She waited when she should have been acting and acted when she should have been waiting. She didn’t seem to know her role. And yet there was One who not only defended her but commended her. What did Jesus see in Mary that others could not?
I was reading in Matthew 26 recently, and it struck me how Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, seemed to understand Jesus even better than his disciples did, grasping not only his teachings but also his heart. We see her only a few times in the gospels, and yet she leaves a great impact. At times, her actions seem to aggravate everyone but Jesus. In fact, if King David was a man after God’s own heart, maybe Mary was a woman after His heart. That’s why I wanted to spend some time studying her life to see how I could grow a heart like that.
What a Waste!
The first story I wanted to look at is a familiar one, and it shows up in Matthew 26, Mark 14, and John 12. Jesus is reclining at dinner one night shortly before his last Passover when Mary comes in and breaks an alabaster vial of perfume over Jesus, anointing his head and feet with it. The disciples are indignant at her actions. What a waste! The vial and the perfume amounted to just about a year’s wages. What was she thinking, breaking the whole thing open just to pour it all on Jesus? If she really wanted to be helpful and please Jesus, they said, she should have sold the perfume and given the money to the poor.
But Jesus defends her. In fact, he declares that “wherever this gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be spoken of in memory of her” (Matt 26:13). What?? To my knowledge, Jesus didn’t say anything like that in all the rest of the gospels. What was so great about Mary’s gift? That question is best answered by Watchman Nee, an author and Christian who spent his life for the Church in China. The conclusion of his fabulous book The Normal Christian Life examines the significance of Mary’s sacrifice.
What is Waste?
The main complaint that the disciples had against Mary’s offering was, ostensibly, that she had squandered money that would have been better spent elsewhere. In other words, she wasted it. “What is waste?” Nee asks. “Waste means, among other things, giving more than is necessary….Waste means that you give something too much for something too little” (277). In their eyes, Mary had given too much—all of her savings—for something too little—a token of appreciation for Jesus.
Judas was the spokesman for the group’s disapproval, but everyone was thinking it: Mary was being foolish with her resources. After all, there were plenty of ways she could have used her savings—she could have kept it, sold it, or used only part of it. But she chose the most wasteful option and broke the whole thing open, lavishly anointing her Lord. What a waste. In the eyes of the disciples, “everything ought to be used to the full in ways they understand,” and Mary’s actions made no sense (281).
The Heart of the Matter
Their anger at her gift made me stop and think. They obviously valued Jesus differently than Mary did. The disciples were being practical, and Judas was being selfish. (John tells us that Judas wanted her to sell the ointment and put the money in the group treasury so he could help himself to it.) But Mary wasn’t thinking about money at all; she was thinking about how much she loved Jesus. For one thing, Jesus had recently raised her brother Lazarus from the dead. While it’s true that “he who has been forgiven much loves much,” for Mary, she who has been blessed much loves much, too. What gift could she give that would even begin to express her gratefulness?
That’s why Mary didn’t care about making the wisest possible investment with her savings. She didn’t even give some and save the rest. She gave it all, irrevocably breaking it for Jesus. So what motivated a gift so reckless and valuable? An understanding of how valuable Jesus is. “But when he is really precious to our souls,” says Nee, “nothing will be too good, nothing too costly for him; everything we have, our dearest, our most priceless treasure, we shall pour out upon him, and we shall not count it a shame to have done so” (288).
The Goal of the Gospel
This story is beautiful, and there are many applications and takeaways, but what’s the big deal about her gift? I’m sure Jesus had received other presents during his life. The wise men gave gifts even more precious than perfume, but God didn’t declare that gold, frankincense, and myrrh be discussed every time the gospel is preached. So why does Jesus want this story to be told alongside the gospel? “Because he intends that the preaching of the Gospel should issue something along the very lines of the action of Mary here, namely, that people should come to him and waste themselves on him. That is the result he is seeking” (277).
Mary understood something about Jesus that the others did not: she understood his words and his worth. He had told them all several times that he would soon be killed, but the disciples didn’t get it. Only Mary seemed to comprehend that he meant it literally, and so she anointed him beforehand for his burial. Usually bodies were anointed after death, but Mary lavished the oil on him while he was still with them. Watchman Nee points out the beauty of her timing. When the women went to his tomb in order to anoint him three days after his death, they were too late; he had risen! Mary was the only one to anoint him because she understood his words.
And the cost of her gift and the unreserved nature of the offering showed that she also understood his worth. Nothing was too costly or too dear for him. He had given her brother second life and had given her new life. He was the Resurrection and the Life! He was worthy of all she could give him. This is something the disciples wouldn’t learn until later.
To Be Continued
And so her offering is held up as a demonstration of the goal of the gospel: that we would see his worth and delight to spend our lives on him as he delighted to give his life for us. I said earlier that Mary gave her offering to the Lord partly out of thankfulness for her brother’s healing. While I’m sure that’s true, I think there’s an even deeper foundation to her worship. Her motivation is critical, but neither of us has time to get into it today, am I right? So we’ll talk more about Mary next week! See you then!
Read the next post here!
Source: Nee, Watchman. The Normal Christian Life. Carol Stream: Tyndale House, 1997.
Outside, Part 2: Sounds of Spring
If you read last week’s post, you saw how excited I am that spring has finally sprung. I celebrated the sunshine and smells of spring, but this week I wanted to wax eloquent (or maybe just wax regular) upon the theme of springtime’s sounds. Join me, won’t you?
The Great Outdoors
This first one may not seem like a sound at first, but hear me out. One easily-overlooked sound of spring is the sound of being outside in general. When I lived in South Texas, this wasn’t as noticeable to me since I spent as much time as possible outside during the “winter.” Sure, there were weeks when it was downright cold and wet or even icy, but from November through February, the weather was generally ideal—perfect for hiking, jogging, and hanging out. It was a wonderful feeling to know that, in mid-January, all I had to do to run my errands was slip on a pair of flip flops with my shorts and tank top and walk out into the sunshine. I never had a chance to forget what the outdoors sound like.
But now that I’m back in Michigan, it’s much more tempting to go into hibernation when winter hits. I could pretty easily hole up in my small, cozy house, going outside only when I dash to and from my pre-heated car on my way to other small, cozy houses. But when I hibernate like that, I get used to the sounds of smallness: creaking floors, ticking clocks, friendly voices, and the washing machine, the sounds all muted by blankets, carpet, and four close walls.
But when spring rolls around and I finally emerge, bleary-eyed, from my long winter’s nap, I remember the sound of the great outdoors. It sounds like openness, the world’s expanse unbroken by walls and unmuted by carpet. It sounds like vastness, my ears filled with the quiet roar of open sky. It sounds nothing like my small, cozy house, and I love it.
Warble and Chirp
Like a joyful descant above the melody of openness is the sound of birds. When the silence of winter is finally pierced by the first gutsy little bird, you know spring is on its way. By the way, you’ve got to love the chutzpa of springtime songbirds. They’ve left their southern resorts and flown who-knows-how-far to get back to their summer homes up north only to realize when they get here that, once again, they’re too early. It may have thawed yesterday, but it’s snowing today. And yet they don’t pack up and head back to Florida for a few more weeks of swim trunks and shuffleboard; they stick it out, their shivers adding vibrato to their audacious little tunes.
Nothing sounds so hopeful, so cheery as the songbirds in spring. To be perfectly frank, I can’t identify most birds by their songs. Of course there’s the raspy chuckle of the chickadee and the mellow lament of the mourning dove. I’d also recognize the old internet dialup sound of the red-winged blackbird, but I can’t boast many more. (My mom and husband, both aspiring ornithologists, would be very disappointed with me.) But personally, I don’t need to know who’s singing in order to enjoy the song, so bring on the chorus and cacophony. To me, it’s the soundtrack of spring.
Patter and Rumble
Ooh, thunder storms. This springtime sound is usually enjoyed most from the comforts of your small, cozy house because spring is a bit chillier than summer, but either way it’s still wonderful. Just a few weeks ago I got to enjoy the first thunder storm of the season. Actually, it was accompanied by the first tornado of the season, which was less wonderful, but the storm itself delighted me. I heard the rain on my roof turn from tapping to drumming to deluging. Then, from somewhere miles away, I heard the rumble of thunder like heaven’s timpanis. I hadn’t been expecting a thunderstorm, so I thought it may be a semi barreling over some potholes or a neighbor watching an entire shelf of cast iron cookware fall to the floor. But when the rumble happened again, I knew we were enjoying the first storm of spring. I hunkered down in my warm, dry house and savored the storm.
Chatter and Splash
With all the storming and thawing, spring is the perfect time to hear the voices of the water. (Not in a Pocahontas sort of way; I don’t plan on painting with the colors of the wind any time soon.) But spring is the perfect season for enjoying the multitude of sounds that water can make. In spring, the ducks go from waddling glumly across an icy pond to splashing, floating, and diving under its liquid surface, happy to move about in all three dimensions once again. The creeks turn from sluggish little streaks to busy channels, full and flowing. Even something as prosaic as a drainage ditch seems picturesque as the water cascades through the long grasses and splashes around scenic McDonalds cups.
But one of my favorite harbingers of spring is the creaking of the frogs in the freshly-thawed ponds. The chorus is as deafening as cicadas in a southern summer and twice as nice. They must have come up with really interesting things to talk about during their hibernation, because when they all get together in spring, they’re as chatty as a bus full of ‘90’s girls on their way to a Hanson concert. Ok, that analogy was a little much, I admit. All I’m trying to say is that, to me, the giddy, incessant creaking of frogs is as springy as it gets.
That’s a Wrap
Well, I don’t know what it’s like where you’re at, but today is a beautiful, blustery day with plenty of sunshine, and I intend to enjoy it. I hope you get some beautiful weather this week, and when you go outside, don’t forget to listen. Spring is singing to you.
Outside, Part 1: The Big Thaw
Ah, outside. I love outside. In fact, when I was a baby, “outside” was one of my first words. My mom says that I would stand at a window, my hands and nose pressed to the glass, begging, “Outside? Outside?” My husband will tell you that, after all these years, not much has changed.
It’s easy to make me happy: just take me outside, especially when the weather is beautiful. It’s fresh, it’s free, and it’s fun! And now that we’re enjoying some slightly warmer weather, I’m sure all my fellow northerners are getting pretty excited, too. After all, it’s beginning to look a lot like springtime! And as this week held the first official day of spring, I thought I’d post a little something to celebrate a few things I love about The Big Thaw.
The Sunshine
Personally, I’ve found that the past two Michigan winters had plenty of sunny days to keep me happy, but I’d lived in South Texas for 11 years before that, so maybe I’m just not sick of northern winters yet. But even though I don’t hate winter, I sure am excited about spring! After a long, cold winter, there’s nothing like spring sunshine to warm the soil and the soul.
Springtime sunshine means lighter jackets, fewer layers, and overall less hassle when you want to go outside. For example, when I want to take a walk in the winter, I have to put on my thermal pants and sweat pants; my thin socks and thick socks; my tee shirt, thermal shirt, and sweatshirt; my boots, coat, hat, scarf, and mittens. And now that we’ve added a baby to all this preparation, it hardly seems worth it. But in springtime—ah, springtime—you can toss on a light jacket, some tennies, and maybe a hat, and you’re all set. The sun will do the rest.
And now that daylight savings time is here, we’ve scored a whole extra hour of sunshine in the evening! Add to that the fact that we’re gaining a few minutes of light every day, and you have the perfect recipe for enjoying these rays even longer. It does my heart good to look out the window at 8:00 P.M. and still see the remnants of sunset behind the trees. It reminds me that summer is just around the corner, and that, my friends, is a wonderful thing.
The Smells
In winter, many of the outside smells are either muted or gone. Sure, you’ll smell the cozy tang of a woodfire or the crisp scent of snow. You might even get lucky enough to smell some fir trees now and then, but there’s not much else going on in the olfactory department. Maybe that’s why the smells of springtime are enough to send my heart sky high with bliss. I’m not even kidding. On the first warm day this year, I got to take a walk through a little nature center down the road from us, and I was nearly giddy with happiness. I kept sniffing and sniffing, taking in all the smells of spring. What kinds of smells, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you.
One of my favorite scents is warm, thawing earth. After so many months of frozen ground, the smell of dirt is music to my nose. It smells so rich, so hopeful, so full of potential and promise. Smelling the first days of thawed dirt gives me a glimpse of what Noah must have felt like when the dove brought back the olive branch: there is hope for life.
Along with the smell of dirt is the smell of damp leaves. Yes, I know it’s just decaying plant matter, but it smells beautiful to me. I love the sweet, spicy scent of dry leaves in the fall, but the scent of warm, wet leaves in the spring is just as nice. They smell earthy and comforting.
And finally, I love the smell of growing things. This year, it’s too early for me to have smelled anything growing yet, but I know it’s coming. Soon the little sprouts of grass will peek tentatively through the dirt, and the tiny leaves will emerge from their buds like butterfly wings from cocoons. Crocus will smile shyly, while daffodils will beam from ear to ear, both lending their aromas to the sunshine. All these living, growing things will fill the air with freshness and life—the perfume of spring.
Happy Spring!
While there is much, much more that I love about spring, I think I’ll save it for another day. Today, the sunshine is calling, and I must go. I hope you have a chance to get outside and savor the season, too. Happy spring!
Check out the next post here!
Celebrating Dr. Seuss!
It’s March, and that means National Reading Month! I remember Reading Month in elementary school; we would bring books and snacks and would wait as eagerly as Pavlov’s dogs to hear the reading bell ring during the day. That bell meant we could stop whatever class we were in and start reading. We got to seek out a cozy corner of the room, take out our snacks, and spend half an hour in the imaginary world of our choosing. What a glorious idea!
Strangely, one of my most vivid memories of reading month was actually the time that I brought carob chips as my snack. I had wanted to bring something sweet and chocolatey, but that’s not the kind of house I was raised in. All we had at home was this weird, healthy “chocolate” knockoff. An adult woman on an extreme diet may have been able to fool herself into thinking that carob tasted good, but not me. I knew I was eating brown chalk. However, although my snack was a bust, I’m sure my book was good enough to make up for it.
Anywho, I would be remiss to let National Reading Month pass without acknowledging one of the most influential authors for children: Dr. Seuss. Let’s take a quick peek at his biography, his effect on children’s literature, and a few of my personal favorite Seuss books!
The Doctor’s Early Years
Dr. Seuss wasn’t actually born with a doctorate degree…or with the last name of Seuss. In fact, he was born as Theodor Seuss Geisel in 1904, Seuss having been his mother’s maiden name. He must have enjoyed drawing and writing as a wee lad, because those tendencies followed him to college at Dartmouth. He was actually the editor of their humor magazine…at least until he got the boot from that position because he and his friends were caught drinking during the prohibition.
Naughty Ted.
But that punishment didn’t keep him from contributing to the magazine under various pseudonyms, including Dr. Seuss. His enjoyment of cartoons and writing followed him to Oxford where he began pursuing a postgraduate degree in English Literature. But he soon found that he enjoyed doodling in his notebooks more than the lectures themselves, so he dropped out and returned to America, working as a cartoonist for various advertisements.
Challenge Accepted
Seems like a rough start, right? But his beginning as a children’s author was even more unpromising. His first illustrated children’s book, “And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street,” was rejected close to 30 times before one of his friends in the publishing business took a chance on Seuss. That was way back in 1937, and while he continued to publish children’s books every few years, it wasn’t until 1957 that he got his big break with “The Cat in the Hat.” But with a break that big, it was worth the wait.
So why does everyone think that book is the cat’s pajamas? The fact is, the book was pretty groundbreaking. At that time, children’s educational books weren’t known to be exciting page-turners. Most of them were of the “See Spot run” variety—equally effective as a teaching tool and a sedative. Kids didn’t enjoy them, so kids didn’t enjoy reading. After a few articles were published about this conundrum, the public became concerned. A few people even suggested that Dr. Seuss remedy the situation by writing something more interesting for kids…using only 220 words…from a list of 348 basic vocabulary words.
Guys, that would be really, really hard.
But in the fires of this challenge was forged a book like no other. “The Cat in the Hat” emerged as a triumph of children’s literature, made from the perfect alloy of education and imagination. (Enough with the sword analogy. I’ll cut it short and get back to the point.) The point is, Dr. Seuss had introduced a new kind of book for little readers, and it changed everything.
The Style of Seuss
Dr. Seuss is best known for his comical meter and fantastical drawings. As a writer of silly, rhyming stories, he is nearly unrivaled. While a few of his books are written in prose, the majority are written in anapestic tetrameter—a ten-dollar term that just means he stuck with the same kind of rhythm in most of his books. I think kids love the rhythm of poetry in general, but it’s the content of Seuss’s poems that appeals to them even more. It’s like he tapped into the brains of some wacky kids and extracted the strange stuff they dreamed up. And it’s not just kids who enjoy it; everyone knows that the capers of Thing 1 and Thing 2 are more interesting that seeing Spot run. Sorry, Spot.
For someone who enjoyed writing nonsense, Dr. Seuss also wrote several books that teach moral lessons. He didn’t want to be blatantly didactic (although this author believes that he may have inadvertently strayed into that realm a time or two…), but he did want to teach children the importance of equality, conservation, and other topics that concerned him. He didn’t believe in “writing down” to children as inferior beings; rather, he wanted to present information to them as equals. Equals who like silly words and bright pictures. And as his books are still some of the most popular children’s literature today, I’d say he did something right.
It’s wonderful that Dr. Seuss was not only the author but also the illustrator of his books. That way we know we’re getting to see exactly what he meant by truffula trees and zizzer-zazzer-zuzz. His iconic characters and colorful landscapes make his books fun even for kids who can’t read yet. And he had so much to say! He continued to write, illustrate, and publish books until 1990, the year before he passed away.
Some of my Favorites
While there are so many Seuss books to choose from, I’ll just mention two that I remember from growing up. The first is called “The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins,” and it’s actually one of the few books that Dr. Seuss wrote in prose instead of poetry. And for a children’s book, it’s pretty long! Bartholomew is a little peasant boy who gets into trouble for not taking off his hat when the king passes in the street. The problem is that Bartholomew did take off his hat, but there was an identical hat underneath! And then another and another and…you get the picture. If you haven’t read this one in a while (or ever), I think you’d get a kick out of reading it.
And I’d have to give my second acknowledgement to “Oh, the Places You’ll Go,” since it was a graduation gift. It’s the last book that Dr. Seuss wrote, so you know he saved up some good stuff for it. I think it’s a healthy blend of inspirational and realistic. He assures you that on your journey through life, sometimes you’ll be awesome…but not always. That’s a needful balance to today’s “You-will-win-every-game-and-be-the-best-at-everything” mindset, but it’s hopeful enough to give to a high school graduate without depressing him. It’s a fine balance, but Seuss achieved it.
Here’s to You, Dr. Seuss!
So next time you open a children’s book to read to your kids, grandkids, nieces, nephews, or even yourself, take a moment to thank the good Doctor for his contributions. His books opened the dam to a flood of enjoyable, colorful, appealing children’s books that will continue to water young minds for years to come. Thanks, Dr. Seuss!
Today’s Question: What’s your favorite Dr. Seuss book, and why?
Sources:
http://www.seussville.com/#/author
Oh, the Places We’ve Been
Remember just over a year ago? Do you recall how bleak your life was every Friday afternoon? You would check your inbox and find nothing but work, spam, and misery. There was no bright spot in your weekend, no resource for all topics nerdy, and no hope on the horizon. In short, you were experiencing life without this blog.
But then you met Past Watchful Dragons, and the sun came shining through the clouds.
Yessir, for a year we have been together, plumbing the depths of literature, the Lord, and life. We have examined a vast smattering of topics and a wide array of articles, and we’ve enjoyed every minute of it. (Right, guys? Haven’t we?) Well, I have, at any rate. And let me tell you, I have been so thankful for the comments and feedback you’ve given me as well. Sometimes it’s alright for me to know that I’ve sent my inmost thoughts out into the void, but it’s so much nicer when the void replies back to me. Thank you, and please keep it up!
I just wanted to take a moment to light this solitary birthday candle and bask in its orange flickers, reminiscing about where we’ve been and looking forward to where we’re going. Will you join me?
Where We’ve Been
This past year, I’ve really enjoyed having a blog to keep me writing, even though some of my posts seem to have come out of nowhere. You’d find most of these in the FYI category because they’re just that: a hodge-podge of thoughts for your information and enjoyment. I’ve talked about my past hiking adventures (and misadventures), about my enjoyment of all things spring, and even the shape of your mind. While these are just random odds and ends that I’ve found interesting, I hope you’ve found them interesting too.
But without doubt, my two greatest passions are literature and the Lord. That’s why the bulk of my posts fall somewhere in those two categories—with many of them falling at the intersection between the two. For literature, we’ve slogged through several lengthy series based on books that have had a big impact on me: C.S. Lewis’ science fiction trilogy, J.R.R. Tolkien’s essay On Fairy Stories, and especially Christopher Vogler’s The Writer’s Journey. That one was quite a doozey, but I’m so glad we took 16 weeks to unpack it. (By the by, if you actually read the whole series, I’d be happy to send you some kind of trophy. You would deserve it.) We’ve also studied a couple of masterful poems and several awesome children’s books since those are two of the most powerful literary genres, in my humble opinion.
But we’ve also spent a great deal of time talking about Jesus. We’ve looked together at several passages of scripture, from parables about the kingdom of Heaven to the idea of Christian liberty and even our longing for consummation. Christian books have also played a big part in our time together: Every Moment Holy, Passion and Purity, The Pursuit of God, and King’s Cross, to name a few. And, last but not least, we’ve thought about the way Jesus factors into everyday life as the light, the hidden meaning, the hero, and the Savior. I know that she who teaches learns most, and that is certainly true for she who writes as well. Thank you for the opportunity to share what I’m learning with you!
What I’ve Learned
And speaking of learning, I wanted to share a few things I’ve learned along the way this year. First of all, I’ve never claimed to know much about technology. I’ve always felt that paper is my happy place, and the digital realm is a necessary evil. But as I went about the process of starting a blog, I realized just how little I know about technology. I mean, I’ve had to do hours and hours of research just to figure out what the web host site was talking about, not to mention the time it took me to actually set the thing up! And while the result was far from fancy, it was adequate, and that’s good enough for me.
I’ve also learned that it’s well-nigh impossible for me to keep up with a blog, a book brainstorm, and a baby. One of them had to give, and I thought it wouldn’t be conscionable to neglect my tiny offspring. Also, I should be able to manage posting a blog article each week (although I won’t tell you how long it actually takes me to churn out these posts. I’m a slow writer, so it’s embarrassing). But the whole point of this blog was to help keep me thinking as I went about the process of trying to write a novel or three. However, while I took several running starts at a story idea and ended up with oodles and oodles of brainstorming, I wasn’t able to begin the book itself yet. I’ll never give up and never surrender, but it may be a hot minute before my child is self-sustaining enough for me to pick up the book brainstorming again. Harumph.
Finally, I’ve had a suspicion confirmed for me: literature is a broad topic with a narrow audience. While I think books are the cat’s pajamas, there are people out there who just can’t muster up that kind of enthusiasm. And I totally get that! Sometimes I find it difficult to get excited about calculus and spreadsheets. But while I can’t promise to stop writing literary posts, I can try to make them as interesting as possible, even to Joe MathGuy (of whom I am incredibly jealous, since that part of my mind failed to form). And if I do come across an interesting math concept, I promise to share that with you as well. But don’t hold your breath.
Where We’re Going
So with all that in mind, where are we going? Well, we’re going onward and upward! As wonderful as this year has been, I’m hoping that the coming year will be even more splendid. For starters, I’m hoping to improve some of the technical nitty-gritties. I’ve been looking for a way to make the email look as good as the blog page, but I haven’t been able to crack that code yet. In the meantime, I would love it if, instead of suffering through the poor layout of the emails, you would click on the title of the post and let it take you to the website! Then you can enjoy all the fruits of my formatting labors. But I won’t give up on fixing the emails yet. There must be a way. (Joe MathGuy is probably biting his knuckles in frustration, the answer being quite obvious to him. Sorry, Joe.)
I’m also, at least temporarily, ditching the pop-up ad that asks you to subscribe to the blog. Everyone said it was an absolute must, but I haven’t found that to be the case. I mean, pop-up ads are like that insecure quasi-friend who’s always pestering you to hang out. If you wanted to hang out, you wouldn’t need a reminder; you’d just call them on your own. Anywho, hopefully this will make it even nicer for people when they visit Past Watchful Dragons.
And as far as content goes, I’m hoping to do the same but more so. I’ll be sharing more about the literature I love in hopes that it will inspire love in you, too. I’ll share more about Jesus through the passages and books that impact me. And hopefully I’ll share even more about life—the quirky, everyday stuff that keeps existence interesting. And I truly hope to hear more from you, too! Your comments make my day.
Happy Birthday
We’ve come so far, and yet there’s still so much to look forward to! Thank you again for a wonderful first year of Past Watchful Dragons. It makes my heart happy to know that you’ve read and enjoyed the posts from time to time. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a birthday candle to blow out and a wish to make. And if you’d like, I’ll even save you a piece of the cake—but you’ll have to hurry.
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