Meeting Nature with New Eyes

You and I are mostly blind. I don’t mean that our eyes don’t work, only that we fail to register most of what we see. It is as if we lived in a library and knew the titles of all the books and exactly where each one was located, but never opened one of them to read what was inside.

As I sit in a lovely campground in the southern Sierra Nevada, I am surrounded by pines, cedars, oaks and a host of wildflowers – in full spring color. Last night as the sun was about to set, I watched a bobcat amble silently across a path. I love coming here for several reasons. I love the wild things, the clean air and the peacefulness that is here. I have also come to learn new things and to enhance my understanding of the Creation.  

I have been to this same location and watched as young children discovered the rocks and pinecones for the first time. Children have an ability to entertain themselves in a way that we adults struggle to understand. Somewhere along the path of becoming adults, we often fall into a conscious rut of superficial awareness that separates us from the excitement of discovery.

I have had the good fortune of escaping from this rut many times in my life. And I have learned that there are a few things – call them tricks if you like – that can enhance awareness and make seeing the world just as exciting for us adults as it is for children. If discovering nature is a guaranteed pleasure for them, why should it be any different for us? There is no chance that you have experienced all the magical moments that nature has to offer. There is only the chance that you will fail to get out of the rut of your own apathy.

I recently read a remarkable account of the German philosopher Gustav Theodor Fechner. Fechner was born in 1801 to a poor family and his father died when he was only a child. The young Fechner showed promise though and developed an interest in medicine. He managed to support himself in his studies by translating physics and chemistry textbooks. He was clearly a gifted lad.

He also had a passion for conducting experiments and often used himself as his own guinea pig. Some of these efforts proved to be quite harmful, especially the many observations he made of the images left in the mind after looking at bright objects – especially the sun. These studies left him nearly blind for three years as well as exhausted and depressed. After he regained his sight, he wrote a description of what he experienced. It is the best account I know of describing what it is like to see nature with new eyes. He wrote:

“… I stepped out for the first time from my darkened chamber and into the garden with no bandage on my eyes. It seemed to me like a glimpse beyond the boundary of human experience. Every flower beamed upon me with a peculiar clarity, as though into the outer light it was casting its own. To me the whole garden seemed transfigured, as though it were not I but nature that had just risen up again. And I thought: So nothing is needed but to open the eyes afresh, and with that, old nature is made young again. Indeed, one will hardly believe how new and vivid is the nature which meets the man who comes to meet it with new eyes.”

This sort of change in how we see the world was experienced by my wife Kathy and me a number of years ago. It wasn’t an encounter with nature but with an old piece of furniture but the principle, I think, is similar.

I had been given an old television set that didn’t work from a friend of the family. It was well built and the frame was made of solid wood riding on small but sturdy wheels. My plan was to remove the glass, metal and other electronic portions – retaining the frame – and make a moveable bookshelf for my den. I worked hard on the project and finally painted it an anemic white, since that was the only paint I had on hand at the time. The color wasn’t important to me. I just needed it to hold some of my taxonomy texts.

Kathy wasn’t very impressed with it but didn’t complain too much since it was in my part of the house – the part that she has come to tolerate by ignoring (what else can a long-suffering spouse do when married to a naturalist?).

For my part, I pretty much ignored the improvised bookshelf too. It was doing its job, and I didn’t give it much thought. Then one day while I was away, Kathy invited her friend and interior decorator over for a visit and to discuss remodeling options. In their zeal, they ended up in my den and Kathy’s friend fell immediately in love with my little bookshelf.

She told Kathy that she would love to buy it and re-paint it. Apparently, in her eyes, there was a lot of potential in the old television frame. Later in the day, Kathy told me about the visit and we both laughed. She wanted to know if I would sell it. Of course my answer was no. To this day, we both appreciate the unusual piece of furniture a lot more.

There are natural treasures all around us that we know nothing about. Even as a trained naturalist, I pass by uncounted species that I do not recognize. The world is just too rich and diverse for one person to understand it in all its variety. I know a thing or two about some of the insects, birds, plants and mammals but I am still ignorant about many groups that I haven’t taken the time to learn about yet.

What would happen if I happened upon a rare, or uncommonly seen, kind of grass while wandering around in the deserts of the Southwest? The simple answer would be, not much. I might not even give it a passing notice. I just don’t know enough about grass diversity to recognize a grassy treasure when I see one.

A year ago, while driving through the coastal ranges of Southern California, I spotted a handful of California condors roosting on an old oak snag not far from the road. There was a small turn-off not far away, and I quickly pulled off the road to have a closer look. This was only the second time I had ever seen condors. They are not as rare in certain parts of the Golden State as they used to be but they are far from common. I was thrilled to see them. I was also disappointed that a few cars drove past while I was admiring the birds and they didn’t have a clue about the remarkable scene so near at hand.

The erstwhile (and often neglected) British author Colin Wilson spent much of his life researching and writing about our human mental energies. He was convinced that most of us live our lives under the control of our automatic selves. This “self” he often called the “robot” or that portion of our lives that gets bogged down with fatigue and anxiety. It is the passive habitual part of our existence that can drain our passions and leave us so unhappy.

On the contrary, bringing our vital energy back can be managed readily enough if we can learn to recognize its source. Religion is, of course, an important example if we are serious about it. But so are many other things if we care enough to give them our attention. In fact Wilson is convinced that vital attention (emphasis mine) is one of the key elements in gaining and maintaining mental health. And it often gets overlooked. One of his clearest examples is Victor Frankl’s well-known psychology (best outlined in the books From Death Camp to Existentialism and Man’s Search for Meaning). Remember that it was Frankl’s observation that those victims of Holocaust death camps that maintained a goal or a meaning to live managed to stay alive more often than others who lacked this vital energy or attention.

In his book New Pathways in Psychology, Wilson gives the example of the novelist Margaret Lane who, after having had a positive experience giving birth, soon found herself lacking energy and having a hard time being involved in her tasks. Then, as she learned about the tragedies of the atomic bombing of Japan, she fell into a schizophrenic depression that lasted a long time.

This state of mind began to change when Margaret and her husband made a trip to a country cottage that they wanted to rent. The new surroundings must have been a mental salve because she began to feel better. And whereas she had formerly looked upon plants (and especially grass) with a kind of inorganic disregard, she now began seeing them differently. She noticed a bluebell flower in the grass and its vividness surprised her. Then other plants also began to look real again. At this point she “burst into tears as she realized that the long emotional freeze-up was over.”

Many years ago, in a Sunday-School class, I heard the story of naturalist John Burroughs (1837-1921) who was troubled by the lack of natural awareness in so many people. Walking through a park one day, Burroughs heard the song of a bird that captivated him. Noticing that no-one else seemed to be paying any attention to the sound he pulled a coin from his pocket and flipped it onto the ground. It made a distinct metallic ring, but the sound wasn’t any louder than the song of the bird. But to his annoyance many people noticed the sound of the coin even as they continued to be oblivious to the song of the bird.

Sadly, human nature hasn’t changed very much since then. This is particularly sad because there is so much enjoyment and healing that can come from discovering nature again and again. One final example from my long-suffering wife Kathy should be proof enough if you are not already convinced.

Some time ago, she decided to attend a class on the wildflowers of Cedar Breaks National Monument above Cedar City, Utah where we live. She took notes and shared them with me since I wasn’t able to attend. In the following days, we looked up many of the plants and committed some of them to memory.

Then a few days later, we were able to go camping fairly close to Cedar Breaks and Kathy was thrilled. It was July and several plant species were in full bloom, including many that she had just recently learned. She was so excited that she insisted that we make plans to return to the same spot in coming weeks. In short, she has now fallen in love with a place that would have meant little to her just a few months ago. And what has made all the difference? In a word, it is awareness and attention to the natural world. It really does work wonders.

References

For an abbreviated account of Fechner’s story see Colin Wilson’s Mysteries (Part Three, Chapter 3, The Mechanisms of Enlightenment) published by Hodder and Stoughton in 1978. The actual statement of Fechner is from Walter Lowrie’s (ed.) Religion of a Scientist: Selections from Fechner (1946). The account of Margaret Lane is on pages 248 and 249 in Wilson’s New Pathways in Psychology, Maslow & the Post-Freudian Revolution (Taplinger Publishing Company, New York. 1972). The story of John Burroughs and the singing bird was recounted by Boyd K. Packer in his talk Prayers and Answers, delivered in October Conference 1979.

A Wren and a Hound are Singing

 

My friend the wren

Stood upon a fence
And sang the summer rainstorm
To its face
 
The chickens got excited too
And Harry the old hound
Began to bay right at
The darkling cloud
 
I also felt the earthy summons
Of a hymn or howl
Emerging from some hidden
Place inside

But couldn’t quite betray

The aria in mist and sage
And so I only watched
The happy little bird and laughed

I think I really meant to say

That language only works halfway
When desert rain
Disbands the day

Three Dreams

I’m not normally inclined to write about my dreams. Most of the time, they don’t make a lot of sense (at least to me). Often they are a bit too personal. But every once in a while they carry a message. And of the several dreams I have had in the last few weeks, three of them seem to be of this latter category. They have a feel of the mantic. I think they are pre-cognitive, to use the language of experts. In a word, I think these dreams are warning me about the future.

I don’t presume to receive dream messages for others. So I write about these three for my family only. I also send them out into the world in case they ring true to anybody else.

The first dream that impressed me a great deal was of a visit I made to the office of a lawyer friend of mine. In the dream, it was the first time I had visited him at work and I was extremely impressed by how large and expensive everything was. The ante-room was three stories high and probably over 4,000 square feet in area. All the walls were lined in gray and white Italian marble. And the building was filled with clients, so many that I couldn’t count them all.

Every one of them was coming to see my friend about handling their bankruptcy. I remember being surprised by this because I knew that my friend was not a bankruptcy lawyer.  I was also a little put-out because my friend did not even have the time to say hello to me. He was just too busy.

I was about ready to leave when I saw the wife of another lawyer friend of mine. She was dressed in a thick diving suit and she was very busy too. She was polite enough, however, to say hello. As she moved out of the office building, she said there were so many that were drowning that she had to save.

In my second dream, I found myself surrounded by many credit cards. This troubled me a great deal since I don’t like credit cards. I have one bank card and a couple of store cards and I pay them off each month. In my dream, though, I was defaulting on all these cards. I also noticed an elderly friend of mine that I suspect is not very wise in his financial decisions. I tried to catch his attention but he refused to notice me.

When I told my wife about these dreams we both agreed that they were a warning about difficult economic times ahead. We also felt that they were warnings about avoiding debt. I guess you don’t need to be trained in psychoanalysis to draw these fairly obvious conclusions.

The third dream was quite short. More accurately, I only remember a part of it. In the dream I found myself with my family in the world of a few hundred years ago. It took a little getting used to – as we were all fully comfortable in a 21^st Century American culture. We did, however, find things to be alright. Instead of frustrations and culture shock, we found ourselves getting by nicely, although quite a bit more simply than we do right now.

These three dreams have left me quite concerned about the future. Hopefully, they are a type of dream that means nothing more than a personal reshuffling of my waking thoughts. This would be nice, of course, except for the fact that before the dreams, I had no thoughts whatsoever about worrisome economic times to come. That is no longer the case.

Carl Jung identified several types of dreams from antiquity. The un-inspired dreams are hardly worth noting as they are usually about our personal preoccupation with food, money, love, hate, prestige, etc.

But ancient cultures (and most non-Western cultures today) also have many traditions of divinely inspired dreams. Sometimes these dreams are oracular – meaning that an honorable important person appears and gives counsel on what we should be doing (or avoiding) or maybe about the future. Other inspired dreams might be visionary dream of the future. Supposedly, these kinds of dreams are visions of how things will actually be.

A third category is the figurative dream. These are dreams involving symbols of one kind or another. In other words, the actual events of the dream may make no sense at all by themselves, but understood as an analogy, they may be quite prophetic or otherwise enlightening. My three dreams all appear to me to be of this symbolic type.

I find it interesting that so many cultures all recognize the symbolic nature of some dreams. Some psychologists recognize that these symbols are individual and perhaps arbitrary. Among our more influential dream observers, though, (e.g. Jung and Freud) symbols often represent consistent and recognizable things. Jung, for example, believed that some symbols represented universal stages (or archetypes) in the development or history of humankind and they were consistent across many cultures and peoples.  

I have a book claiming to identify several of these universal symbols. After having experienced my three dreams, I decided to look at what some of the images might mean. Did I dream using universal symbols? I wanted to know.

I couldn’t find a reference to marble, but stone is known to represent power or permanence. There was nothing in my book about rubber or diving but swimming is said to represent being surrounded by uncertainty and by something greater than ourselves. Again, there was nothing listed for credit cards but money is fairly straight forward indicating currency, capitalism, finance and such things. And I found nothing on abandonment by friends but the meaning of betrayal is quite harsh. It is associated with hanging, punishment and death.

Many other parts of the dream (lawyers, history, crowds, etc.) were not listed either. Maybe I am to understand these things literally. I’m not sure. I’m not an expert in dream interpretation. That said, I am enough of a mystic, I suppose, to believe that dreams can be important.

I come from a Christian faith tradition that recognizes the importance of dreams anciently, even if our contemporary understanding is a little less clear on the subject. I grew up taking the stories of Joseph’s and Daniel’s dream experiences seriously, just as I did the story of Lehi, Nephi and their family.

I don’t believe that our modern scientific notions necessarily have to diminish how seriously we take dreams. There are plenty of examples of bright people that think dreams are important. I’m not sure I know why our culture seems less interested than others do about dreams. Maybe dreams are just too subjective for us. It is more likely that there is little place in our academies for prophecy and their ilk.

Whatever the reason may be, I think some dreams should be taken more seriously than we are wont to give them. I say this because I have had a handful of experiences with dreams that clearly turned out to be pre-cognitive.  If these three dreams turn out to be the same, I think we should do whatever we can to be ready for difficult economic times ahead. I’m not a fatalist, nor am I a doomsday prepper. I am someone, however, that does believe that some dreams are important. And I hope that my family does too.

References

For Jung’s ancient taxonomy of dreams, see Dream Interpretation Ancient & Modern by C.G. Jung, published by Princeton University Press this year (2014). Another reference that comes to a very similar chategorization of dream types is A. Leo Oppenheim’s The Interpretation of Dreams in the Ancient Near East, with a Translation of an Assyrian Dream Book (1956). Transactions of the American Philosophic Society, New Series, Volume 46 (3): 179-373. My reference on symbols is, The Book of Symbols, Reflections on Archetypal Images edited by Ami Ronnberg and Kathleen Martin published recently by Taschen.

Cloudless Rain, Tuolumne River

The clouds

I can tell
Do not like crowds
And today I watched
It rain with only
Cotton in the sky
 
I had to duck beneath
An ancient pond’rous pine
And wait it out
With wonderment, for
This strange dream
Was dripping wet

I tell you from experience

That there is more precipitation
In a sunny shower
Here alone
Than in all the hasty bowers
That a man will own

Snow on Cedar Mountain

There is snow upon the mountains

All the piñon pines are white
Covered over by the flurries
That passed overhead last night

Just a fragment of a storm cloud

Is left drifting in the sky
Leaving spangled spots of shadow
On the ruddy rocks nearby

This open fragrant landscape

Ever changing always new
Is far older as a token
Of our own red, white and blue

Far away from gilded chambers

In the buildings of the great
I prefer the sage and cedar
To the decorated state

Christian Masculinity

I am convinced that this generation is more confused about masculinity than any other generation of recent history, maybe of all time. And the fallout of our confusion is crippling us in many ways. Even the well-meaning and religious reaction to the problem is often misguided.

Take for instance the story told recently by a well-meaning Christian author and counselor about a boy, and the trouble this boy encountered one day at school with a bully. The boy’s parents were concerned when their typically talkative son refused to say much of anything around the dinner table that evening. Eventually it came out that a bully at school had pushed their son down and the whole experience had been devastating to him.

The father’s reaction to his son’s discomfort is the point I would like to focus on. He spoke very directly to his son in an understanding yet serious tone and told him that he should hit the bully as hard as he could if that ever happened again.

Not knowing the individuals or the situation very well, I am certainly not in a position to pass judgment on this particular case. The father was concerned that if his son began to shy away from bullies at a young age that it would negatively affect him for the rest of his life. An understanding father should be able to make the right decision at such times.

But the story has bothered me nonetheless. Maybe such pugilistic advice is proper at times but I certainly would never give this kind of instruction to one of my sons (or grandsons). This isn’t to say that I don’t understand where the father in this story is coming from. I have been in a handful of scuffles of my own through the years and would never want my sons to back away from conflict because they lacked courage. But the role of Christian masculinity is quite a bit different than following the Darwinian impulse of male hormones under stress. And I am convinced that this father’s advice is an example of Darwinian masculinity.

Let me explain what I mean. One of the key points of Darwin’s theory of evolution is that in the struggle for existence, success is measured by those individuals that can out-compete their peers in the struggle of having offspring. This is normally seen in nature to mean that the biggest, the strongest or the most cunning males find mates whereas the weaker males do not.

Bullying is a common occurrence in nature and it follows this Darwinian logic. Just watch your dog as it interacts with other dogs, or even with the dominant man in the house. It is used to backing away from the stronger or more dominant male. Nature understands this principle well.

In our societies, however, we tame this Darwinian impulse in a lot of ways. This is largely because we have adopted Christian legal systems and customs. We insist that everyone (including less dominant males) has the right to a successful life. In a social context, we are implying that the winner-take-all logic of a natural bully must not apply to us. And yet if every boy is taught to fight back, the Darwinian argument is fully vindicated. It is the argument that might makes right. This is clearly not what Jesus taught.

In my own experience I have learned how true Jesus’ admonition to Peter (who had just cut off an enemy’s ear with a sword) is, that “they that take the sword shall perish with the sword” (Matthew 26:52). Jesus never taught men to fight bullies. In fact He insisted that we should not seek “an eye for an eye” but that we should love our enemies. He promised to fight our battles for us.

That said, I have to admit that it isn’t easy overcoming the Darwinian impulse. I have a problem of not suffering bullies gladly. I usually refuse to back down from belligerent people when they confront me even though I am thin boned and am probably not hard to physically beat up. I have come close to injuring myself in traffic because of my Darwinian impulses towards belligerent drivers. And I have gotten into a few tussles on the basketball court for the same reason.

A few years ago I was ejected from a basketball game (and for the entire season, as it turned out) because I tackled a man who was about to punch one of my teammates (who turned out to be my boss at work). I had to miss a number of games (which I felt bad about) but ended up getting a promotion out of the whole thing. 

I might make the argument that standing up for my boss was legitimate (or not). But my behavior in traffic is clearly not a Christian example. It does not demonstrate Christian masculinity, in the least. Sadly, however, this is the sort of response that we are encouraging in our young men when we tell them to hit the bully “as hard as you can”. Christian masculinity is willing to take a hit on the cheek without fighting back. This is not something that the natural man – the Darwinian man – is likely to appreciate. It sounds very much like being a wimp.

But this isn’t the whole story. There are many examples in the gospels showing that Jesus clearly stood up for the weak, the sick and the disadvantaged in general. And we know, as Christian men like to point out, that Jesus was not about backing away from conflict when the need existed – such as cleaning the temple grounds of merchants. Clearly there is a time and a place when a Christian man needs to prepare for battle. 

But the battle must always remain the prerogative of God. The scriptures make it abundantly clear that only a handful of reasons justify an act of war. These include defending our homes and country, contesting both visible and invisible spiritual enemies, and becoming masters of our own selves.

As Christian men, we are expected to protect our wives and children. They have never been asked to defend themselves. In fact, they very often abhor any kind of violence at all and would keep their men and boys (who are becoming men) from fighting at all – strictly as a matter of principle. Christian men need to have the maturity to recognize when it is, and when it is not, the right time to put up a fight.

It is quite interesting how the scriptures handle the issue of preparation. Even though it is expected that men will defend their families and fight for their country, there is no commandment – not even a suggestion – for starting up a program of physical fitness to become powerful warriors.

On the contrary, God is to be relied upon for the needed strength. Whether the battle is between a David and a Goliath or between a handful of Israelites and an invading host, God’s people are protected by Him. He is the warrior in charge. He is the Lord of Hosts and He employs no servant to take His place.

Many years ago, as our family sat around the dinner table, I also had a conversation with my young boys about dealing with bullies. I don’t remember the exact words spoken but I clearly remember that we talked about when it was right for men and boys to stand firm and fight if necessary. We respected the Lord’s teachings about not fighting back. But we also understood that we might need to protect someone weaker than ourselves. Even if the odds were clearly against us, we would put up a fight if needed. Maybe the Lord would give us strength, or maybe we would get beat up in the process. Either way, we would try and be courageous and do what a Christian man is expected to do.

Maybe there are those who believe that backing away from any fight is for women and emasculated men. This is both a myopic and a religiously shallow view. Mortality always wins in the end, at least here below. Even the greatest warrior will succumb to the decaying flesh. The only victory for any of us is victory in Christ.

There are many men that would lose their self-respect if they adopted this Christian kind of masculinity. They could never back down from a fight with dignity. This is because they have never shed themselves of their fallen natures – of their Darwinian natures.

Christian masculinity is of another kind. And it takes practice, and a great deal of self-mastery. It was never meant to deny our genetic drives and inclinations. It only insists that we discipline them for a higher purpose. We, as Christian men, are expected to have the courage to stand firm against danger. But the call to battle is not our call. And if we insist on using our own strength to fight our own battles we will find that, in the end, the weak things of the earth have come out ahead.

Faith and the Best Books

There are millions of books in the world – far too many for anyone to read. Of course, most of what is published is hardly worth spending time with. But even for the comparatively few worthy titles, the list is large – prohibitively large – and it continues to accumulate.  

For Latter-day Saints, this dilemma can take on an added angst. We are, after all, encouraged to find out and read from the best titles and authors we can. “[S]eek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning, even by study and also by faith” (Doctrine and Covenants 88: 118).

These words to the Prophet Joseph Smith came as an inspired bequest to the members of the new Mormon Church just after Christmas in 1832. The entire revelation came to be called The Olive Leaf that was “plucked from the Tree of Paradise.”

It is a grand ideal, as many ideas from Holy Writ are. But it is also something that many Mormons try to achieve, especially those of us that love reading anyway. The challenge stems from our accumulating choices and from the fact that the original revelation leaves us without a list of what these “best books” might be. In short, we don’t have a final list to work from. For young aspiring Mormon readers, this can be a real limitation.

I have been dealing with this reality for over three decades now, and I am certainly not even close to having an adequate list. Nonetheless, the sheer effort of my reading addiction has yielded a few insights that I offer here to anyone interested. You may not agree with my preferences, but I hope you might be introduced to a few titles – and lists of titles – you might otherwise miss, or discover too late.

But first let me make a difficult admission. It involves something I have occasionally and intentionally ignored through the years. It has to do with the very same verse in the Olive Leaf revelation that I just quoted. It begins by stating, “And as all have not faith, seek ye diligently and teach one another…” And then this is followed by the injunction to read out of the best books.

As a lover of many kinds of literature, I have wanted the scriptural statement to be a universal call to letters. But this important prefatory line is quite clearly no such thing. On the contrary, it implies that we are to seek out of the best books words of wisdom in order to teach, or to build, faith. Actually, the requirement to study is to help those who lack sufficient faith. What, exactly, this faith is to entail is not stated. It seems to be implied. I believe it must refer to the main sort of knowledge we are to achieve in this life – I mean the knowledge of God. For this is life eternal, the scripture says, “that we might know thee, the only true God and Jesus Christ whom thou has sent” (John 17: 3).

In other words this bibliotheca (unspecified and open as it is) probably was not meant to include my Tarzan books, the occasional Western novel, or the science thriller habit that I sometimes indulge.

In short, not all books are the same. And the universal virtue of reading in general – the message I picked up from my many school teachers through the years – was not the same virtue that the Olive Leaf revelation proclaimed. Very often I catch myself wanting these two virtues to line up. I want my reading addiction to be scripturally vindicated. I’m sad to say that I don’t think it is. In fact, it really does matter what we read.

That said, I have found a lot of faith-related books through the years. Some of these are written on subjects and by authors you would expect. But I have also found inspiring books in unexpected places.

Take for example my interest in adventure. There are a handful of adventure books for boys that even elementary students love to read – when they will hardly read anything else. This same genre exists for every age group, but especially for the grown-up adventurer (actual or virtual alike). I just discovered, for example, Reader’s Digest’s True Stories of Great Escapes, published in 1977. As a grown man, I still can’t help but love such books. Do these books increase my knowledge of God? Well, not always. But they very often cause me to reflect on the human condition. And a religious person, like me, can find many life lessons here. These stories can ground us to the basic realities of survival in a way that other theoretical works cannot.

Some classic adventure books that I have thoroughly enjoyed are Anapurna by Maurice Herzog, Alive by Piers Paul Read, Touching the Void by Joe Simpson. I could name many others. If you like adventure books, I suggest pulling up the list of titles in The Adventure Library published several years ago. These books with their matching covers are no longer in print. However, many of the titles are still available from other publishers, and most are available as used copies.

But let us move along to other categories. It isn’t healthy to linger in one corner of the candy shop. Many other publishers have collected great books or classics and made them available through the years. Some of these are still in print and can be purchased in installments. Others are available in libraries. And while it is true that all such lists are subjective (and incomplete as a result) they are quite useful as a starting place for great books.   

Perhaps the most ambitious collection is the Britannica Great Books of the Western World project. This collection consists of 54 volumes (most containing more than one book) that begin with Homer and end with Freud. There are many titles in this collection that will not appeal to every reader. They were chosen because of the influence they have had on Western civilization and include books on mathematics, religion, history, literature, etc. Someone wishing to read a classic would do well to glance at the titles in this collection.

And there are many other lists of classics. Some are more academic than others. If you want to find a classic that is also likely to appeal to the general reader, I recommend Reader’s Digest’s The World’s Best Reading. This collection of over a hundred titles includes Dickens, The Bronte sisters, Twain, Douglas, Doyle, etc. The collection is out of print, but used copies can still be found and the list itself is a useful guide.

Easton Press (including the former Franklin Press which it acquired) still makes expensive high quality classics available for the reader that can afford them. And for the reader on a budget – who enjoys owning her own books – the erstwhile Everyman’s Library is another place to look.

I also enjoy the collection of American classics published by the Library of America. This collection now includes over 200 titles and the list continues to grow every year. Some of the authors – especially some of the more modern ones – cannot be considered faith promoting. Some, in fact, should be avoided. But the publishing effort is well worth looking into for good titles.

And then there are the Harvard classics, the Penguin classics, and other lists and volumes. Great books often get included in these lists at some point, at least the ones with staying power. Sadly, however, there are many faith-promoting authors that get over-looked by these lists.

C.S. Lewis is a clear example of a classic Christian author that is rarely anthologized. Even his popular children stories (The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe series) have had to stand on their own. And then there are classic authors such as John Henry Newman (for the more serious reader), G.K. Chesterton (for all ages), George McDonald (for all ages) and others who are likewise marginalized or forgotten.

There are many great faith-promoting stories for children and young adults. Many of these have become (or should become) classics. Besides books written by the authors mentioned above, I think immediately of The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Swiss Family Robinson by Johann David Wyss, The Bronze Bow by Elizabeth George Speare, The Little House on the Prairie series by Laura Ingalls Wilder, and many others.

A good place to look for good titles appealing to young and old alike is the list of Newbery Medal winners. Many great stories have received this award through the years. Books published before 1922 (the first year the award was given) are not included. And other good stories didn’t make the list (like Lassie Come Home by Eric Knight) or are from other countries (like Heidi by Johanna Spyri). But for the beginning home library, the list of Newbery winners is a real aid.

Other awards are also helpful. My son Spencer advised me several years ago of the value of the Pulitzer Prize award for general non-fiction. The Pulitzer Prize is given once a year for American literary excellence in many areas (such as journalism, literature, poetry, photography, history, etc.). These lists include many worthy titles (although many recent winners in the category of literature are clearly not something that Christians will want to read). But the category of general non-fiction, being a bit of a collection for anything that doesn’t fit the other categories, often includes surprises that can be quite valuable.

The list of Parkman Prize winners is another place to find good books. This annual award goes to the best American work of history, but winners are also chosen because of literary excellence. This combination often highlights books that deal with important but challenging themes that are also written well enough to be quite accessible to an interested general reader. The History Book Club has reprinted over a dozen of the best of thesse winners and made them available in inexpensive copies (although not all of them are still in print).

Literary excellence, I need to add, is only a nice addition in the search for faith-promoting literature. It is not a necessary corollary. In fact, it can often lead to trouble. In the long aisles of fictional volumes that fill libraries and bookstores, most titles are of no value whatsoever in our search for God. In fact very many of them are quite offensive.

For this reason I cannot recommend a list of prize-wining novels for faith-seeking Christians. Several titles show up in the above lists, but I have only been frustrated in my efforts to find faith-promoting titles from lists of literary prize winners. I should qualify this by admitting that prize winners from earlier decades are often worthwhile – and frequently safe. More recent titles are frequently disappointing.

Of course there are Christian literary awards. And you may find these helpful. My experience, however, is that these awards are usually fairly parochial, and most winners have not been shown to have any real staying power. We really need a quality book award for excellence in virtuous literature. We could also use a Christian book review service – maybe something that provides ratings like the motion picture industry has developed. It can be quite frustrating to spend money on a book that looks interesting (even a book with good reviews) only to find that it is too offensive to read.

Finally, there is the trustworthy category of authors and books cited by general authorities in General Conference talks (the 2-day conferences held by the Mormon Church twice a year) and in their own publications. I have come to appreciate this little-recognized category more and more through the years. Many conference speakers are well-read men and women who are also individuals of faith. And while the vast majority of their sources come from the standard works of the church, other church authors and previous conference addresses, many speakers also draw from the authors of the world in their search for faithful literature.

The availability of conference talks (including citations) on the official Church website (www.lds.org) going back to 1971 is a valuable resource for discovering who these authors are.  By far the most frequently cited non-LDS sources are dictionaries, newspapers and news magazines. Many speakers also draw from their own professional sources such as legal documents (among the several layers) and medical journals (among the doctors and surgeons). But, for the most part, popular authors are more frequently referred to.

The two most popular ones are C.S. Lewis and William Shakespeare. Those of us that listen regularly to conference will not be surprised by this. Some poets are also frequently cited. Wordsworth and Tennyson lead the list but Kipling, Frost, Pope, Browning, Longfellow, Guest, Yeats, Milton, Whittier, Markham and others are also important.

Among other religious writers (besides C.S. Lewis) Farrar is important (primarily The Life of Christ) but so is G.K. Chesterton and H.E. Fosdick. In Children’s literature, Lewis Carroll (Alice in Wonderland) and J.M. Barrie (Peter Pan) are understandably important but so is Antione Saint-Exupery (The Little Prince). 

Authors such as Dickens, Donne, Hugo, and (Joseph) Stein (for Fiddler on the Roof) are important. World leaders, critics and historians are also cited. Important names include Lincoln, Jefferson, Carlyle, Churchill, (William) James, (Will and Ariel) Durant, etc. 

Occasionally an author is cited that is less expected or is no longer popular (and probably deserves more attention). Corrie ten Boom and Lloyd Douglas come to mind. But also Anne Lindbergh, J.E. McCulloch (for Home: the Savior of Civilization), Barbara Tuchman, etc.

It is always refreshing for me to hear a church leader draw from great literature to build faith. This, of course, is what the Olive Leaf is asking us to do. It is also a reminder to me that great books should fill a couple of different roles. Aristotle (in his Nicomachean Ethics) taught us about primary and secondary goods. A primary good is something that is good in and of itself, like health or virtue. A secondary good is something that helps us acquire a primary good, like a job or an instrument or tool.

Some things fall into both categories. Food, for instance, can be enjoyed just for what it is. It can also help us live healthy lives or fuel our virtuous deeds. Books too can be both primary and secondary goods. Few things are more enjoyable to me than spending a couple of hours with a well-made book by an inspired author.

Of course, the literature of faith does not deny us this literary good. But it does require us to realize that as means of bringing us to God, great books are secondary goods. It is faith that is the primary good.

I think we instinctively know this. It is during those moments when we put the book aside, reflecting on important things, that we find ourselves truly lifted. These moments can be some of the greatest moments of life. That we associate them with books is natural and inevitable. It is often a book that is the catalyst that leads us to God.

And this, perhaps, is where books achieve their highest value. Faith is the motivating influence of all of our intentions. This is one of the great teachings of Joseph Smith in Lectures on Faith. But where does this desire come from in the first place? Alma taught that a beginning to faith can be nurtured even from a small seed if we will but give it place in our hearts (see Alma Chapter 32, in The Book of Mormon). Very few things are more capable than great books for planting this desire.

Of course, other kinds of books can do just the opposite. We need to help each other make this important distinction and find the truly great books. For many of us – especially children – our faith depends on it.