i will read almost anything, no matter what it may be

But, my child, let me give you some further advice: Be careful, for writing books is endless, and much study wears you out. (Ecclesiastes 12:12)

I am a reader. I have read all my life. And I will read almost anything, no matter what it may be.

When I was in school science-fiction was my love, but I also read about everything the elementary school library I went to had. I was and still am, one of those people who would rather read than almost anything else.

It is odd, though, that I would not read my assigned stuff in school. I suppose that was rebellion of sorts – I was told I had to do it so I didn’t.

But it gave me a very well-rounded body of knowledge.

For instance, OA Fleming Elementary School in Freeport, TX, had a large one room library  like many elementary schools did a the time. And there was one section on mythology. It was mostly Graeco-Roman, but it also had a few books on Norse mythology and one on Eastern mythology.

I read them all. I knew not only about the Greek and Roman gods, I also knew all about the Norse gods. I was a little scholar on esoteric stuff, stuff that did me no good and benefited me not at all.

But I loved to read. And I could immerse myself in a book and sit for hours reading it.

In high school, we were assigned Babbit, by Sinclair Lewis, and it caught me. I began reading and had trouble putting it down. Lewis was a good writer.

In fact, I got so immersed in it that I began to read it under the desk while we were doing something else in English. My teacher, whose name I do not remember, but who had really long arms (it was rumored that she had been a pro wrestler) came over and grabbed it up. She was triumphant that she had caught me with contraband – a Playboy maybe or  some kind of pulp fiction.

It was Babbit, the book she had assigned. She looked at it for a moment and then at me in a bit of bafflement. I was doing what she wanted, reading the classics, but at the wrong time. She gave it back to me and said, well, read it later.

I cannot imagine a world without books, or a world with limited reading material. Even though right now, I am reading mostly westerns, at the same time, I have learned so much through books.

All of the Louis L’Amour characters read and learn through their books. They also drink a lot of coffee and eat a lot of bacon. That is good.

But you learn so much through reading. My son doesn’t read anything, my daughter reads only fluffy stuff. And it isn’t like I sit around reading Plato or other Great Books of the Western World (although we had a set for a while and I read an awful lot of them). But I just love to read and I guess I always will.

i just used a book

I sent Tychicus to Ephesus. When you come, be sure to bring the coat I left with Carpus at Troas. Also bring my books, and especially my papers. (2 Timothy 4:12-14 NLT)

I just used a book. Now I recognize that is not earth shattering, stop the presses, alert the media stuff, but at the some time, it has been a while since I used one quite like that.

I was looking at Hebrews 2 for tonight’s Bible class. The passage, Hebrews 2:10 says (in the NIV) In bringing many sons to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the author of their salvation perfect through suffering.

I was wondering what the word perfect there was in the original Greek. The NLT uses the phrase And it was only right that he should make Jesus, through his suffering, a perfect leader, fit to bring them into their salvation.

NLT uses fit instead of perfect. What is it?

As it turns out, it is the word teleios, a word which means “perfect, (a) complete in all its parts, (b) full grown, of full age, (c) specially of the completeness of Christian character.” According to Strong’s which agreed with several others. (Now the definitions I got off the internet).

But I looked into an old copy of the Interlinear Greek New Testament by Berry. The copy is undated, as the copyright page is missing, but it is pretty old.

What struck me was something that used to be a considerable part of my life. It was the smell of the old book.

It hit me with such memories. I used to pore over books, holding them, looking at them, smelling them, using them. I had quite an extensive library and liked using it.

Then a few years ago, I sold the vast majority of my library. I kept my Greek and Hebrew language books for some reason, but everything else went.

And I rarely used them. In the age of the internet, you can find whatever you want online instantly, without having to search through a book.

But by not searching, you miss the experience of holding a book. It is something that future generations, unless there is a resurgence of written materials, will miss.

I read an article not long ago in which Thomas Edison prophesied that books would be written on hyper thin leaves of pure nickel, which he said would be ultralight. The Encyclopedia Brittanica, he said, would fit in a book of an inch thick weighing less than a pound.

He was wrong, of course, as were so many of that era. How could they have possibly known.

But I miss my books, and the smell and feel of them.

I have regretted selling the library, but, of course, how could I have them after what we have gone through in the past few years? But still.

daily java

Daily Java: Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:12-14)

Not too long ago, I began the process of downscaling. The spellcheck in the MS Word program liked the word downscale so I suppose that is what it is called.

I decided four or five years ago that I was going to get rid of things I did not need. The main target of my energies would be my library.

I have always had an extensive library, at times reaching almost a thousand books. It has gotten in the past to where I needed an extra trailer to carry them all when I moved. In my office, I have always been forced to add extra shelves to accommodate them all. They have, at times, been a source of pride. Look how smart I am, with all these books. Preachers love their books.

It is not that I haven’t used them, but their presence always soothed me, made me feel more the scholar. People would come in and exclaim over the volumes. Did you read all these books, they would ask. No, I would reply modestly, but I have read from all of them.

And I did. And they were useful. But lately (the last ten years or so) I have begun to notice that they were almost more of a hindrance than a help. There were just so many.

On top of all that, I had come to the point that they were part of my life definition. I loved to rearrange them and look at them, to pick one up and read a bit, to move them around. When it came time to move (as we did frequently, coming from a denomination that did not value longevity in a preacher), I could pack them in a couple of hours. They were rapidly becoming an idol.

It took longer to unpack them, but that was because I lovingly arranged them along with all of the toys, tschotskes, stuff that were on the shelf with them. The attendant stuff took up a few boxes themselves. All in all, my library took up over 20 boxes. I preferred banana boxes for their strength.

A fat lot of stuff that for the most part, looked backward.

The writer of Ecclesiastes said, The words of the wise are like goads, their collected sayings like firmly embedded nails – given by one shepherd. Be warned, my son, of anything in addition to them. Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body. (12:11-12)

Finally one day, that came home to me. We were living in a temporary house while I was undergoing credentialing process in the Assemblies of God and one room was full of boxes. Many of them were books. I had been going to the internet more and more for my study materials. I decided that these were something I could live without.

Ella and I cataloged them and priced them on a sheet which I took to the Bible department of a nearby Christian college. Like I would have done when I was in a Bible department, they fell on the list like wolves. I sold the whole lot to a young graduate student. I got far less than they were worth, but his obvious pleasure and – this was the kicker – he said he was going to send parts of the collection to missionaries. Sucker that I am, I practically gave him the library.

Over 30 years of accumulated books gone in thirty minutes.

I kept a few, less than 200, three shelves full, things like my Hebrew and Greek stuff. Some of the stuff I kept is kind of odd really. I had already given away many of my toys, swords, knick knacks – things that people expressed an interest in. If I thought they would like it, I gave it to them.

In general, I got rid of too much. It was almost wrenching. There were some books I was a fool to get rid of. But at the same time, liberating. It got my library down to four or five boxes, toys and all.

Sooner or later you move away from the old and you embrace the new. You press on to the prize. In my case, the prize was getting rid of everything before I die.

The only problem is that other stuff comes in to take its place. I am not sure why, but it is true. I suppose that the world sees me as a collector, so I collect.

I would like to give everything away before I die, though. I won’t need it where I am going.