Athanasius remains
one of Christianity's important figures, though few 21st century
American Protestants have ever heard of him. He is most famous for his
theology about the person of Jesus of Nazareth. In a very tumultuous
time in the life of the Church, Athanasius wrote about who Jesus was
and why his life was significant. The work is called On the Incarnation, and remains a very important piece of writing in the life of the church. But what is really quite interesting about this translation (because it was originally written in Latin) is the introduction by C.S. Lewis. If you are, perhaps, one of the people who passed over the above links because a) you've never heard of this Athanasius guy and b) the word theology makes you itch......well, you're in luck. Lewis provides an amazing salve which feels cool upon the theological/intellectual wounds we carry. He writes a fantastic introduction to Athanasius' work and implores us, the modern readers, to take the time to read the old books once more. He begins by writing this:
Since I myself am a writer, I do not wish the ordinary reader to read no modern books. But if he must read only the new or only the old, I would advise him to read the old. And I would give him this advice precisely because he is an amateur and therefore much less protected than the expert against the dangers of an exclusive contemporary diet. A new book is still on its trial and the amateur is not in a position to judge it. It has to be tested against the great body of Christian thought down the ages, and all its hidden implications (often unsuspected by the author himself) have to be brought to light. Often it cannot be fully understood without the knowledge of a good many other modern books. If you join at eleven o'clock a conversation which began at eight you will often not see the real bearing of what is said. Remarks which seem to you very ordinary will produce laughter or irritation and you will not see why--the reason, of course, being that the earlier stages of the conversation have given them a special point. In the same way sentences in a modern book which look quite ordinary may be directed at some other book; in this way you may be led to accept what you would have indignantly rejected if you knew its real significance. The only safety is to have a standard of plain, central Christianity ("mere Christianity" as Baxter called it) which puts the controversies of the moment in their proper perspective. Such a standard can be acquired only from the old books.
So--what do you think? Have you read any of the "Old Books" recently? Do you even know some to read? What do you think of the other stuff Lewis says?
I have often said a similar thing (although, not nearly so cogent or clear) when speaking about literature in general. Having been, at one time, an English Lit major, I've read a lot of stuff that never made the official canon, the official list of "good books" that are considered classics now. Some of them are pretty good, but they pale in comparison to the greats of the ages. I'm sure many at the time thought they were pretty good books, but no one ever felt they were worth holding on to a hundred years later.
I think this is even more true of theology and the faith. There are a lot of books in a Christian book store that will never make it past the 10 year mark, let alone the 100 year mark. They are good, but they are largely untested. Some of them may have meant one thing, but their repercussions sometimes end up producing the opposite of what they intended. But as Lewis points out, without the filter of time to weed out the bad stuff or correct the misguided, you are often left to try and sort out what is and is not orthodox for yourself. And often, that's a daunting and error prone process.
Another thing that might be important is a book and how we react to it. I think of the Purpose Driven Life or the Prayer of Jabez and how the modern Christian community reacted to them. Did these books have excellent points? Yes. Did we sometimes take them too far, or apply them everywhere and anywhere? Unfortunately, also yes. Does the ancient tradition have a lot to say in the same areas? Definitely yes, but we are mostly (in the American Evangelical branch of the faith) ignorant of what it has to say. Here, Lewis' point about the correction that comes over the ages is especially important and applicable.
But I have also been accused of being the "Indie Rock Pete" of theological books—that is, if everyone says a book is fantastic, I sometimes choose not to read it. I'm just stubborn that way ;-)
I've been working on the sermons of John Chrysostom. All I can say is that the church held on to this guy and passed down his writings for 1600 years for a very good reason. I read his sermons and I am just convicted again and again about how much I am missing about walking with God. Chrysostom is just fantastic to read, as many of his points made in the 5th century are still applicable (perhaps more so) now in the 21st century.
For me, I can't read Chrysostom and not feel humbled or feel a need to repent from a specific sin. The man loved God, and God spoke to people in the 5th century through his sermons. I'm just so grateful to the generations before me for preserving those sermons for me here in the 21st century—because they are speaking anew to me now.
It's like a low-tech podcast ;-)