God, What on Earth are You Doing?

THE SPEECHWRITER

Many will remember the name of Mark Sanford, the former governor of South Carolina.  Sanford’s adulterous relationship overseas was big news a few years back.  Sanford currently serves as US Congressmen for the first district of South Carolina.

What is it like to be a political speechwriter?  What is it like to be a speechwriter when a major crisis hits?  Barton Swaim writes about all this and more in The Speechwriter: a Brief Education in Politics (http://www.amazon.com/The-Speechwriter-Brief-Education-Politics/dp/1476769923).

Moore: Why in the world would a guy with a PhD in English from the University of Edinburgh become a speechwriter?

Swaim: What a lot of people working on their English PhDs don’t realize – what I didn’t realize – is that in any given year, there are about twice the number of new doctorates as available jobs. I spent almost three years looking for a sufficiently remunerative job in English, and I came up with nothing. I had to get creative, and that’s when I inquired about writing for the governor. I read his stuff – op-ed and whatnot – and it was just awful. He needed a writer; I offered to be that writer; and off we went. 

Moore: You write about the difficulty of crafting speeches that conveyed Sanford’s unique voice.  How difficult was that to do?

Swaim: Writing to sound like someone else is always a tricky thing to do, but in his case it was all but impossible because – and this is where the fun comes in – his way of running an office was to hate everything anybody did. That very much included written products. So I would give him something I thought was near what he was looking for, he would say it was junk – and sometimes say so in very strident terms – and the whole thing would end badly. That’s how almost every major piece went. It was a kind of destructive never-ending cycle. Not fun at all to live, but a lot of fun to write about.

Moore: What in graduate school prepared you best for your job as a speechwriter?

Swaim: Probably nothing I learned in school, exactly. What prepared me best was that I had been writing for a long time. People sometimes ask how do you get published? I never know how to answer, but if I had to tell the truth, it would go something like this: Start reading and writing all the time; don’t think about anything else all your waking hours; write and write some more, and read it aloud to see if it’s any good. Do that for about ten years straight, and by the end of it you should be a pretty decent writer. That’s what I did. That’s not the full story, of course, but in some ways, formal schooling was just an addition.

Moore: You speak openly about how the job pressures affected your young family.  Is it possible to be involved meaningful in modern politics and still maintain a strong family life?

Swaim: It is. It all depends on who you work for. People used to talk about “Sanford widows” – the wives of guys who worked for him. He was just one of those people whose total myopic view of the world, whose bottomless self-regard, demanded all your time and all your attention – and then you still couldn’t please him. Sadly, a lot of people have emailed or called me since the book came out to say they work for a boss just like that.

On the other hand, I used to hear about other politicians who were a joy to work for. Tellingly, I guess, there were never any jobs available in those offices.

Moore: One of my takeaways from your book, and I hope I am wrong, is this: There are incompetent, but likeable people in politics.  And there are competent, but not particularly likeable people.  It is rare to find competent and likeable people.  Am I cynical or is there some truth to this?

Swaim: I think that’s close to the truth, only instead of likeable I’d say “good.” In politics – and in many other areas, but it seems especially pronounced in politics – the most effective leaders are not what you would readily describe as good people. They’re just not. The good ones – the truly honest, the ones whose humility is genuine and not of the ersatz variety – just don’t win. It’s something I think many of us need to get used to. We want to like certain politicians because we think they’re essentially honest and true. Well, it’s in their interest as politicians to persuade you that they’re honest and true; but they might not be. You may well be fooled. The lesson, for me, was to stop looking for good people in politics.

Moore: Speaking of cynicism, how did you keep from becoming a cynic?

Swaim: Maybe I didn’t keep from becoming a cynic. I don’t know. I think what I learned, though, was to take politics less seriously. Politics is always going to be dominated by self-aggrandizing and essentially dishonest personalities. Once you come to terms with that fact, you can begin to enjoy politics more. When you believe that politicians used to be good and now they’re bad – and when you believe that what we need is to get good people back in office – it’s enormously taxing on your emotions. Because it’s false. Sure, some things have declined – I do believe that. But people in power have always been prone to abuse their power, politicians have always survived on their vanity, and people in authority have always done stupid things with that authority. Yes, the government is vastly larger than it used to be, and the debts are greater and the stakes are higher; but that just means we’re closer to a decline and fall that’s always been inevitable. Is that cynical? Maybe, but in my view it’s truer.

Moore: Would you ever consider being a speechwriter again?

Swaim: No. But even if I would consider it, who would hire me?

OLD CAN BE GOOD

Many of us are tempted by “chronological snobbery,” the term C.S. Lewis made famous.  We assume (as J.I. Packer once put it), that “the newer is the truer, only what is recent is decent, every shift of ground is a step forward, and every latest word must be hailed as the last word on its subject.”

OXFORD’S BEAUTY, MYSTERY, AND PRESURES

Ryan Pemberton is the author of Called: My Journey to C.S. Lewis’s House and Back Again (http://www.amazon.com/Called-Journey-Lewiss-House-Again/dp/0891123849).  It is a moving memoir about the beauty, mystery, and pressures of being a student at Oxford University.  If a good book is measured by whether it makes you choke back tears or laugh out loud, then this book qualifies, as it did both for me.  Pemberton serves as Minister for University Engagement at First Presbyterian Church of Berkeley, California.

Moore: Give our readers a general feel for what your book is about.

Pemberton: Called is a story about what it was like to wake up and go to bed night after night with this deep feeling that I was supposed to be doing something very different with my life, to make a dramatic change not only in terms of my career, but also in terms of my general life direction. It’s a story about what unfolded after I took this step in faith that I never could have seen coming. Called is as much a story about failure as it is about success, and it asks what it looks like to be called, specifically as a Christian, in the midst of all of that.

I wasn’t completely comfortable with how many Christian writers were writing about calling as I was wrestling with my own questions on calling, and I was also feeling like my own personal experience forced me to think about calling in a different way than when I first left home, community, and career to pursue what I believed to be God’s call. I wrote this book to get at all of that, and to say, “Maybe this will help you.”

Moore: When and how did you know you wanted to be a writer?  More accurately, how did you know you were a writer even before publishing anything?

Pemberton: This was a process for me, a series of moments, rather than any one particular moment. I had a longtime fascination with words growing up—spelling them over and over again, feeling their texture on my tongue. I loved English in school, and writing stories especially, though I never considered writing as something I’d spend my free-time doing, especially not for pay. But I remember this moment in my first job out of college when I realized I was not only being paid to help my clients tell their stories, I actually really enjoyed this work. That was an important moment for me. I was also beginning to write for myself around this same time, though I wasn’t thinking of writing as a vocation—it was therapeutic for me, getting to write what I wanted to write about. The only person I shared this with at the time was my wife. Jen was the first person who encouraged me that writing was worth my time. She began sharing my work with others, which led to more and more encouragement. That kept me taking writing seriously when otherwise I’m not sure I would’ve thought much of it. There were other moments: my sister-in-law Hayley reading and sharing my words with others just before her unexpected death and getting some of the responses I did from those whose job it is to know quality writing. It was a struggle for a long time, actually, admitting that I not only wanted to be a writer, but that I somehow was a writer; I talk more about that process of realization in my book.

Moore: You mention how Lewis was such an enthusiastic teacher.  How has his love for conveying truth in a winsome and creative way influenced your own teaching?

Pemberton: I’m not so sure I would say it was C. S. Lewis’s love for what he did that influenced me, but simply experiencing how he did it. It was feeling the impact of Lewis using his creativity and his razor-sharp logic to ask the difficult questions of life and faith in Christ; it was reading his best attempt to help others come to a response to these questions; and it was his willingness to say, after all of that, “That’s the best I can do. If it’s not helpful, throw it out.” That’s what left such a mark on me, personally; seeing Lewis use his God-given gifts to help others look at the world through the lens of Christ’s in-breaking, reconciling work, and showing the difference this made for all of life. My gifts are different than Lewis’s, so my work will necessarily look different, but my aim is pretty similar. And that winsome, intellectual humility that Lewis modeled so well is something I try to emulate, though even there I go about it differently. Lewis has courage that I lack.

Moore: Walter Hooper, Lewis’s longtime secretary, has a habit of writing everyone’s name down when he first meets them.  How has this influenced the value you place on each and every individual?

Pemberton: I know what you’re talking about—Walter’s habit of writing down names of those he has just met—but I’m not so sure that specific act has influenced me. I don’t write down names, but Walter is a master of hospitality, and part of that comes simply from attending to people well. On that note, I think Walter has rubbed off on me, because I’ve been a recipient of his generous hospitality. Sometimes that comes simply from doing all I can to remember names, but other times it means taking the time to learn people’s stories, which Walter did with me, and which meant so much. Walter was a dear friend to me when I needed one—showing up in a foreign city, being dreadfully intimidated by Oxford and the people there—and when his life was already so full! I would like to think that he has helped me be a better friend to people I’ve only just met.

Moore: Michael Ward (aka “Spud”)said you might best fit as a “bridge” between academia and the church.  Do you think his counsel is accurate?

Pemberton: It’s funny, that was one of the most pointedly true, even prophetic things that anyone has ever said to me. I’ve chewed on that line for years. I think what Spud was getting at was that my work would be the work of interpretation. And even when I didn’t know exactly what that would look like, I knew Spud’s words were true, somehow. I have never thought I was being called to be a traditional, Sunday morning pulpit minister. Nor, however, did I see my role squarely in the academy. Somehow I felt like my work was going to be more for the general public than for my scholarly peers. Even though I am quite happy to be doing that scholarly work, I felt like I wouldn’t be respecting God’s call were my work not to be reaching someone who would never be interested in scholarship. And so, yeah, that has left me in a funny, in-between spot. This word was more challenging than helpful for a long-time, but now that I’m in the role I’m in—employed by a church in a highly educated, predominantly secular city, working with those who spend most of their time in the world of higher education—Spud’s words feel prophetic.

Moore: You heard from a Dominican priest that “Good theology makes us do something.”  How does this inform your present ministry?

Pemberton: One of my favorite C. S. Lewis quotes is “I warned you that theology is practical.” Karl Barth talks about the Subject of Christian theology as the God who condescends into lived experience. One of my favorite professors from Duke Divinity School when I was there, Dr. Willie Jennings, used to say all the time, “Put this on the ground.” That’s what theology is to me: practical, embodied, “on the ground.” Or else, what are we doing? I’m just as tempted to get lost in my head, lost in abstractions, as anyone, but I don’t think we get that privilege when it comes to theology. If we’ve missed that “on-the-ground-ness” of theology, we’ve missed the point, somehow. That’s central to any and all of the work I do, anytime I am talking God, about the life of faith. I am constantly trying to encourage the students I work with, for example, to think about the difference Christ makes for their life here, in this city, of all places, at this time, of all times.   

Moore: You studied theology at Oxford and Duke Divinity.  They have very different philosophies of learning.  Oxford’s culminates in several big tests at the end of one’s studies.   Duke, like most American schools, has discrete semesters or quarters where you get closure on those classes and then move on to a new set of courses.  Which one do you think better facilitates learning?

Pemberton: Pedagogy is not something I spend much time thinking about. Obviously the Oxford model has been around for a long time, and it’s not likely to change anytime soon (though Cambridge did finally move away from this model not all that long ago). The tutorial system, the opportunity to work one-on-one with your instructors, is an unbelievable privilege, and that’s simply not something that many institutions can offer. But the difference in exam systems, in particular: that’s more difficult to answer. Is my recollection of the material I studied at Oxford better than that which I learned at Duke? It’s hard to say. It probably depends more on those I was working with than the institutional exam system, to be honest. I can very easily tell you which one I’d prefer never to do again!

 

PREPARATION

As heirs of the Protestant Reformation, we revel in God’s grace.  This is a good thing.  However, any good thing can become a bad thing if we forget other important truths.  We don’t have to work for our salvation, but we are to work it out (Phil 2:12,13).  It was the grace of God which motivated Paul to work hard (II Tim. 2:1-7).

Whenever I see someone going to great lengths to be the best they can be, I am humbled by Paul’s statement that many do it for a perishable wreath while we run for an imperishable one (I Cor. 9:24-27).  When I see someone giving intense effort and focus to something other than building up God’s kingdom I am humbled by my apathy.  Here is a good example of what intense focus looks like:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sy8Noy0qt3k

PULITZER WINNER: INTERVIEW

James McPherson is widely viewed as the foremost living scholar of the Civil War era.  McPherson’s book, Battle Cry of Freedom, won the Pulitzer Prize and has sold 700,000 copies.  Fifteen other books have come from McPherson’s gifted pen (and then followed by his trusty Olympia typewriter). 

McPherson has won many awards for his work.  Along with the Pulitzer Prize he received the Lincoln Prize and the Pritzker Literature Award for Lifetime Achievement in Military Writing.

McPherson is the George Henry Davis 1886 Professor of American History, Emeritus at Princeton University. 

The following interview revolves around McPherson’s latest book, The War that Forged a Nation (http://www.amazon.com/The-War-That-Forged-Nation/dp/0199375771).

David George Moore conducted the interview.

Moore: At the beginning of your book, you mention the spectacular success of the PBS documentary on the Civil War by Ken Burns.  Recently, I heard Civil War historian, Gary Gallagher, level some criticism about that documentary.  As you well know, other historians have also weighed in with their own concerns.  What are your thoughts about the portrayal of the Civil War found in that documentary?

McPherson: I also have a couple of criticisms of the Ken Burns documentary, but they are not necessarily the same as those by some of my colleagues.  The narrative script had a substantial number of minor factual errors–no single one of them would have merited criticism, but the cumulative effect marred the presentation.  Ken should have submitted the script to a careful reading by a couple of Civil War scholars.  Secondly, some of the photographs did not illustrate the particular events being described by the narrative–they were of another event or scene entirely.  Only those who were familiar with the photographs would have picked up on this, but these (relatively few) cases also were jarring. 

At the same time, however, I think some of the criticisms canceled each other out: some southerners found it too “pro-Northern”; others found it “too Southern.”  Some found that it emphasized slavery too strongly; others that it paid too little attention to slavery as an issue that caused the war and that the war had to address.  Another criticism is that it largely ignored Reconstruction, and focused instead in the final episode on postwar reconciliation between veterans of the blue and gray.  I don’t agree with these criticisms–the purpose of the series was to present to a large television audience, only a fraction of which was greatly knowledgeable about the Civil War, the story of that titanic and momentous conflict.  The series succeeded spectacularly in achieving that purpose.  It aroused the interest of millions of viewers, many of whom went on to learn more about the war by reading books and articles, visiting battlefields, and the like. This in itself was a great boon to Civil War studies.

Moore: What is the significance of the “United States” going from a plural noun to a singular one? 

McPherson: Before the war, the words “United States” were usually construed as a plural noun.  Local and state governments touched the lives of the average person much more closely than the national government; the identity and allegiance of most people was to their state or region more than to the nation.  The U.S. was a rather loose federation of states; the Bill of Rights was a restraint on the powers of the national government in favor of state and individual rights.  Nationalism existed, as was proved in the crisis of 1861, but the experience of war greatly strengthened it.  The North went to war in 1861 to preserve the Union, but came out of the war as a unified Nation in which the national government was far more powerful in 1865 than it had been four years earlier.  In the generation after the war the United States was (not were) on its (not their) way to becoming a world power. 

Moore: Did both the North and South believe themselves to be following the direction of the Founding Fathers of our country?

McPherson: Both the Union and Confederacy wrapped themselves in the mantle of 1776 and 1787, and professed to be fighting for the ideals and institutions established by the Founding Fathers.  Just as the Revolutionaries of 1776 claimed to be seceding from the tyranny of the British crown and Parliament, the Southern disunionists of 1860-1861 claimed to be seceding from the potential tyranny of a federal government under Abraham Lincoln and his party.  But Lincoln and the Northern people fought to preserve the creation of the American republic from dismemberment and ruin, and therefore to preserve the legacy of 1776.  Confederates claimed to fight for the Constitution of 1787 with its protection of slavery and state rights; Northerners professed to fight to defend that Constitution from the destruction that would be the result of the breaking up of the Union that the Constitution had created.  

Moore: Andrew Delbanco of Columbia has famously said that Americans believed in the providence of God before the Civil War and then in luck as they surveyed the war’s aftermath.  Seeing the scale of carnage rattled many people.  How much does the Civil War still shape the American consciousness about God and country?

McPherson: During the war, most people on each side believed that God was on their side.  Confederate defeat shook this faith in the South, to be sure, but the emergence of a “Lost Cause” mentality in the decades after the war which championed the idea that the Confederacy had fought nobly for the right even though they were overpowered by the Godless North helped reconcile them to defeat.  In the North, victory reinforced their faith the righteousness of their cause; the continuing popularity of Julia Ward Howe’s “Battle Hymn of the Republic” has sustained that conviction right on down to the present.  Lincoln famously argued that God had his own purposes in the war, of which the most important was to punish all white Americans, Northern as well as Southern, for the sin of slavery.  As Lincoln himself acknowledged, that was not a popular idea then, and perhaps is not popular today, but the recognition that the war purged the nation of the guilt of slavery that had made a mockery of its claim to be “the land of the free” has helped to inspire American nationalism ever since the war.

Moore: My own marginalia by your discussion of McClellan’s leadership is “presumption, paranoia, and pride.”  If my three p’s are somewhat accurate, could we say that Grant is somewhat of the antithesis to McClellan?

McPherson: The notion that Grant’s personality and leadership were the opposite of McClellan’s “presumption, paranoia, and pride” is an excellent one.  In all of these respects, Grant indeed was the opposite of McClellan.  He worked his way up from colonel of an Illinois regiment to general in chief of the United States armies step by step, earning these promotions by achievement rather than favor.  He never expressed jealousy of fellow officers or criticism of his superiors in the paranoiac manner that McClellan did, and he was modest about his success in contrast to McClellan’s exaggerations of his limited successes and boasting (in letters to his wife) about them, while he blamed others for his failures while Grant took responsibility for decisions (as at Cold Harbor) that resulted in failures. 

Moore: Lincoln evokes strong emotions among Americans.  Opinions about him range from our greatest president to characterizations bordering on the demonic.  How high do you rank Lincoln’s presidency and why?

McPherson: I would rank Lincoln’s presidency as the most important in American history, or at the least equally important with George Washington’s.  Washington’s leadership launched the nation; Lincoln’s saved it from dissolution and purged it of the curse of slavery that Washington and the other Founders had been unable to eliminate from their new nation.  Much of the criticism of Lincoln has focused on his alleged violations of civil liberties during the war, but in fact these violations were considerably less than those of the Woodrow Wilson administration during World War I and the Franklin D. Roosevelt administration during World War II, even though the dangers from internal dissension in a civil war were greater than those during foreign wars.  Lincoln managed to lead the nation through a crisis that preserved its national integrity and ended slavery, and did so in a manner that also preserved democratic institutions. 

Moore: Much has been written about the Civil War.  What are a few areas (people, ideas, or events) that have not been well covered?

McPherson: So much has been written about the Civil War that it is hard to identify areas or individuals that have not been well covered.  Two areas that have received some treatment, but would profit from more are the environmental impact of the war and the story of refugees in the South.  How serious was deforestation of large parts of Virginia, for example, or the marching, camping, fighting, and marauding of armies over thousands of square miles of farmland and woodlands?  How long did it take the environment to recover?  With respect to refugees, how many people were uprooted by the war?  How many families left home to escape the ravages of war?  How many of them died?  What about slaves fleeing their homes in search of freedom?  Is it possible to estimate the numbers of refugees, black as well as white, during the war?   What about mortality among them?  We know something about the mortality of blacks in contraband camps, but what about Southern whites who took to the roads?  The current focus on refugees fleeing the Middle East and Africa suggests that a more intensive study of refugees during the chaos of war in 1861 to 1865 might add an important dimension to our understanding of the war.

 

MOORE ON LEARNING

Yesterday, I posted something on learning, so I thought to add another thought. 

My own philosophy education could kind of be boiled to two insights. First, is the ancient Greek saying of mathein pathein.  That is, to learn is to suffer.  It is similar to what I said yesterday how pain comes from true learning because it means finding out where we were in error.

Balancing out the sober insight of the ancient Greeks and Nietzsche is Ezekiel Cheever, headmaster in Massachusetts Bay.  Cheever said children ought to come to learn as “they come to play.”  Yes, real learning is tough, but it also includes joy.  And this from a dour Puritan!