A matched pair of book reviews:
1. Teresa of Avila, The Way of Perfection
As a book, this is a bit of a mess. Teresa, a 16th century nun, was asked by others to write a book on prayer, and this was the result. It takes her about a third of the book to even get to a discussion of prayer--as she notes repeatedly, she is writing smaller bits per day, and she never quite seems to get around to the subject. When she finally does start discussing prayer, the discussion takes the form of a commentary on the Lord's Prayer. (She also promises to discuss Hail Mary, but never actually does.) Thus, if one is looking for a straightforward discussion of prayer, look elsewhere. That being said, her ruminations are quite interesting, if at times convoluted. Janet really likes Teresa of Avila, by the way--she's read not only most of Teresa's writings, but a biography as well. So, if you have any questions about Teresa, ask Janet. (But, come to think of it, don't tell Janet I said to ask her--I am not sure she would be happy knowing I wrote about the fact that she likes Teresa. I have no idea why writing that Janet likes Teresa would be objectionable--after all , liking a Saint is hardly some act of moral degeneracy. But, even still, I have a nagging feeling in the back of my head that if Janet knew I said to ask her about Teresa, she would be annoyed with me. And we wouldn't want that. So, if you do ask Janet about Teresa, just pretend it was a question coming out of the blue because she seems like the type of person who would like Teresa.) (Also, by the way, Janet never reads this blog. None of my kids read it either. For some reason, none of them are at all interested in what I have to say. Go figure.)
2, C. S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer
A book of letters from Lewis to his friend Malcolm in which, as the subtitle suggests, the topic is primarily the nature of prayer. This book is short and I have read it a couple of times before. It is probably the most interesting book on prayer I have ever read. But the part that interested me the most this time had absolutely nothing to do with the subject of the book.
I found out between the last time I read it and this time that Malcolm does not exist; the book is in the form of letters to Malcolm, but there is no Malcolm. I was shocked to discover this--the book is utterly convincing that you are reading one-half of a conversation in letters. After I discovered this, I have mentioned it to others who have read the book, and everyone to whom I mentioned it was also shocked. So, reading it this time I was acutely aware of the literary style which makes the letter-form so convincing. The literary structure is brilliantly done.
After reading these two books, I can still unequivocally say I don't really understand prayer. Fundamentally, I have a hard to figuring out why an omniscient God wouldn't be utterly bored by prayer--I get bored when people spend a long time telling me things I already know unless there is some literary or aesthetic merit in the telling. Therein lies my problem of course--a) God isn't much like me and b) understanding the motives of God is impossible.
(Speaking of not being like me: last night I was involved in one of those general discussions with a half-dozen people and I casually mentioned Batman as illustrating some point or other. Lily, who was also part of the conversation, immediately exclaimed, "Dad! You are such a loser!" I was (and still am) puzzled. Is mentioning Batman in a causal conversation really that odd?)
On my list of books which I might get around to reading this summer is Philip and Carol Zaleski's Prayer: A History. It looks like a wonderfully constructed academic exercise exploring the nature of prayer--in other words, it looks like the type of book which is designed to explain prayer to people like me.
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