You Deserve Better, George.

Hey,

I’m still reading Mark Twain’s Life On the Mississippi on DailyLit (I have mentioned both book and site before). I read chapter 38 last night, and it takes the first place prize for the most sardonic thing I think I have ever read. In chapter 38, Twain describes the average “mansion” one might find on the banks of the Mississippi, and what one might find inside. I like this part in the middle of his description:

…Current number of the chaste and innocuous Godey’s ‘Lady’s Book,’ with painted fashion-plate of wax-figure women with mouths all alike–lips and eyelids the same size–each five-foot woman with a two-inch wedge sticking from under her dress and letting-on to be half of her foot. Polished air-tight stove (new and deadly invention), with pipe passing through a board which closes up the discarded good old fireplace. On each end of the wooden mantel, over the fireplace, a large basket of peaches and other fruits, natural size, all done in plaster, rudely, or in wax, and painted to resemble the originals–which they don’t. Over middle of mantel, engraving–Washington Crossing the Delaware; on the wall by the door, copy of it done in thunder-and-lightning crewels by one of the young ladies–work of art which would have made Washington hesitate about crossing, if he could have foreseen what advantage was going to be taken of it.

Ha.

-Daniel

Mark Twain On Scripture

Not really. But we’ll help him make the leap.

Right now I’m reading Mark Twain’s Life On The Mississippi (via DailyLit), and it’s a witty and engaging read- I like him much better than I liked Ben Franklin. In Chapter 13, Twain describes the memory of a steamboat pilot- if he is to be believed, it was a monumentally difficult job. Pilots had to know the 1200-mile stretch of the frequently travelled Mississippi in impossible detail, forwards and backwards, in all of its conditions- day and night, high-tide, low-tide, fog, rain- a thousand thousand things to remember, all while the river changed its banks constantly.

Yet, according to Twain, despite the difficulty of the task, pilots managed to do it, and do it well. Twain marvels again and again at the sheer depth of knowledge that the average steamboat pilot had at his command. He remarks further that these men weren’t particularly gifted with a good memory- ask that selfsame pilot who can trace out the entire length of the river in his mind what he had for breakfast this morning and he more than likely won’t be able to tell you. The memory is trained for a specific task through daily use.

Now, the reason for this, of course, was because they were pilots- they needed to be able to traverse the Mississippi safely through all conditions at any given time of the year. Therefore, in addition to the intimate knowledge of the river, there had to have been the skill to use that knowledge to safely guide the boat up and down the river. This wasn’t trivia- it was life and death.

I want to be that way with my Bible. I want every line to be indelibly etched into my memory from constant use. I want to know my Bible forwards and backwards, book by book, chapter by chapter. And further, I want to have the skill to apply my knowledge of God’s Word to every season of my life, throughout all of life’s changing conditions. Because this isn’t trivia-  this too, is life and death.

-Daniel