Pink Floyd, Ignatius of Antioch, and the Power of Prayer

It appears that Roger Waters is about to bring his recent production of The Wall to Australian shores after successful tours around America and Europe. Despite the overwhelming commercial success of Dark Side Of The Moon, it is The Wall that is closest to Waters' heart and the work that embodies his philosophical and artistic vision. This fact alone should alert the world to the fact that the composer/author may be more than a little sociopathic with shades of paranoia. If you need confirmation, go ask David Gilmour.

However, the truth is that The Wall is more than Waters' dream. It is also the soul-cry of the Baby Boomer Generation as it is hounded by its twin fears of Economic Depression and World War. In the story a young man, Pink, suffering from the loss of his father in war and the harsh austerity of English society, attempts to find fulfilment through rock music. As his star rises he finds his isolation growing, represented by a huge wall that separates musicians from audience. Finally, Pink lashes out at his situation and breaks down the wall, but the truth is that this is a Utopia Moment. Destroying the social disconnection means surrendering significant personal power, something which is anathema to Waters and his generational contemporaries. This is evident also in the spiritual choices of that generation and those subsequent - conformity to traditional structures is forsaken in favour of "my own path to God". Despite the often fair criticisms of traditional religion, it is clear that Western culture continues to drift even further away from God and true community. The Wall remains standing...

My own studies have led me to read the letters of Ignatius of Antioch, a controversial figure from the late 1st Century AD. Some have seen in his writings evidence of a firm ecclesiastical hierarchy with the presence of an aposotolically appointed bishop as the safeguard of Christian unity. It is true that Ignatius had a very tidy mind when it came to church polity and wanted proper respect shown to those placed in positions of authority. Those who see the seeds of a One-Denomination-For-All-The-World position equated with that of the early church I believe misread Ignatius' intention, which could be accurately summarised as, "Hey, fellow Christians in yonder city! I've met your bishop and a bunch of your presbyters and deacons and they are Most Righteous Dudes! They believe in the Gospel of Jesus, so a really good thing to do is to be united with them and listen to their teaching. Don't chuck away God's blessing by trying to start your own thing on the side - that's like giving a free kick to the False Teachers who have been causing so much trouble lately."

The real kicker for me was a comment Ignatius made regarding unity and prayer:

Let no man deceive himself: if any one be not within the altar, he is deprived of the bread of God. For if the prayer of one or two possesses such power, how much more that of the bishop and the whole church! He, therefore, that does not assemble with the Church, has even by this manifested his pride, and condemned himself. (Ep. Eph. V.)

Now, Ignatius is not saying that the bishop is a Prayer Signal Booster who gives group prayers more power to be received by God or get to the front of the cue. His contention is that if the whole of the church is united with godly leaders in petition to God then there is a certain "spiritual weight" that exceeds that of those who willfully abstain from proper communion (even if they have not yet succumbed to heresy). Prayer has power when God's people speak with one voice.

This had me thinking about the resources that are available for our communal prayers that often get under-utilized. Prayer diaries are available not only diocesan leaders but also our key mission organizations at home and abroad. Often these resources are treated as "a good source of ideas" for those composing our weekly prayers but with no compulsion to use. Yet would it not be a significant step if our weekly communal prayers were more coordinated, whether at a regional or diocesan level? Obviously, our ecclesiastical structures are much more complex than they were in the 1st Century and we must beware of applying Ignatius' advice inappropriately. But I believe that it would give our congregations encouragement (not even mentioning the added power to prayer) if they knew that there were things every week that there were things that all the other congregations in their mission area/region/diocese were also praying for, particularly if those responsible for leading these structures had made unity of prayer a priority. At significant moments or times of crisis when our leaders have called for unity of prayer I have found our congregations more than happy to respond. How good it would be if this pattern were the norm rather than the exception.

Evangelical Software, Anglican Hardware

Despite an already full calendar of local conferences/workshops/events, A Fresh Look At Mission took place in the centre of Sydney last Friday. Despite my aversion to large gatherings of Christians in a single locale I was sorry that I was unable to attend (factors of distance and having spent a lot of time recently out of the office swayed my decision). From what I have heard it was a very productive time for all concerned and I hope there will be further events as the topics covered seemed well worthy of attention.

What struck me as I read a report of the day was the content of the talk given by my beloved former teacher Dr Michael Jensen, who noted the reluctance of many young evangelical students to embrace Anglicanism as a way of expressing their theological convictions [note: as I was not at the talk I am relying on the accuracy of the above link and I hope not to misrepresent Dr Jensen in any way]. Jensen's argument appeared to run that all evangelical convictions must ultimately be expressed in some kind of ecclesiology. He likened the relationship to one of computer software and hardware (a subject I know next to nothing about). If evangelicalism is the "software", then Anglicanism is not only an appropriate but the best "hardware" on which to run the program. Jensen suggested that Anglican ministers should be more proactive at selling the "hardware" to young entrepreneurial evangelists and church-planters eager to win people for Christ.

I agree. I am an Anglican not by accident but by conviction. I walked into an Anglican church at the age of 17 mostly based on the fact that people I knew would be there. At various points I chose to stay because I believe the Anglican Church provides an appropriate framework in which to witness to the historic Christian faith. I could have changed denominations at several points but preferred not to.

However, I have an important question (that perhaps someone who attended the conference can answer): what exactly is the "Anglican hardware" that we should be promoting?

Sydney Anglicanism has always been a bit of a strange beast. A bit like old Uncle Neville at the family Christmas lunch, who is intent on keeping the seasonal traditions alive while wearing his trousers back-to-front. Good motives always, but sometimes lacking in the execution. Even our evangelical friends find us a bit tiresome occasionally. But about 30 years ago things really started going off the rails and many of our Anglican distinctives were chucked in favour of being more "culturally relevant". If Dr Jensen thinks we should dig some of these out of the cupboard, then let's go! But which ones, exactly? And to what extent?

Many will point to the 39 Articles or the teachings about the nature of church set out in the Ordinal. But these cannot be properly regarded as "hardware" - they are more like the Operating Instructions (ignore at Your Own Risk). Other Anglican distinctives exist, but at the present time they are subject to either indifference or outright hostility by both clergy and laity. Here are some of the typical Sydney attitudes towards Anglican "hardware" that I have observed:

Prayerbooks - Stable door open, horse bolted. Last attempt failed. Try again if you really must.

Buildings - A pain in the neck. Spend as little as possible. Or meet in school halls. Sacred space is a myth. [Note: This does not apply if you happen to be a "strategic" church which mysteriously burns down. In that case, spend whatever you want!]

Sacraments - Feel free to depart from mainstream Evangelical view on administration if your conscience allows. "Baptism-lite" option now available.

Robes - To be worn at ordination and at the funerals of Archbishops.

Bishops - They take up resources that could be used for practical ministry. If you want one, make sure they can pay their own way.

Worldwide Communion - Never gonna happen...

So, what's left in the "hardware" box? Have I missed something? Is any of the above reclaimable? What did we chuck that we should not have?

Pointless Church Disputes and the 'Van Halen Theory'

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a minister in want of a good fight with his congregation need only fiddle with the seating arrangements.


In two previous church communities which I have been involved with disputes have broken out because the minister in charge had what he thought were very good reasons for changing the seating arrangements. Such a 'minor' issue was interpreted by both congregations as a Blasphemy of the Highest Order (in one case the issue was dropped, in the other a reasonable compromise was reached). Others in pastoral work whom I have spoken to about this have assumed an expression of mutual suffering and black humour. I have been wondering again recently as to why church seating in all its forms is an acknowledged Live Fuse.

The less-generous explanation that is usually trotted out (usually by overstressed ministers) is that the laity (unlike the clergy) are people of Worldly Habit whose dislike of interference with their personal space stems from Unacknowledged Sin and Immaturity. Their aversion to change shows that the Gospel is not Priority #1. It's not as though we were asking them to wear hair shirts or walk barefoot to Canterbury. If only our people were more Godly they would know not to make a Pointless Dispute about such an issue.

Despite such an argument being extremely condescending, my main problem is that it is often personally inconsistent. It is made to apply even to those who would normally be counted as our most devoted Partners and thereby fosters an atmosphere of suspicion. Is there another explanation, one more generous to those we pastor and encourage week to week regarding the state of their Immortal Souls?

I have come up with 'The Van Halen Theory'.

Those of you unlucky enough to have been born in the Gen-Y time span probably don't realise the impact Eddie and the boys had on rock 'n roll in the 1980s. They were Huge. When their debut album dropped in 1978 Eddie Van Halen made all other guitar heroes not surnamed Hendrix instantly irrelevant. Stadium tour after stadium tour then followed made up of the most slammin' hard rock imaginable backed with a massive lighting and pyrotechnical display. Then there was the infamous Rider...

In their list of personal and technical requirements given to venues/promoters before each concert, Van Halen included one item that has gone into rock legend: a bowl of M&Ms with all the brown ones removed. At the time this was seen as another example of rock royalty excess. Yet, when asked about it later, the band and their management revealed quite a different motive than simply to play with the caterer's mind. The logic went that, since such a large and technical production was being put on night after night, attention to detail was essential. In particular, the health and safety of those working in the road crew was paramount as there was so much that could go wrong. Therefore, if the band walked into their dressing room and found the M&M clause unfulfilled (in whole or in part) they might rightly ask the question: What else has been screwed up around here?

If we wanted to be generous (and I think there is licence for being so) we might say that our church seating has become the laity's M&M clause. I think that most every congregation recognises some change to be a good thing and would probably rejoice if the contract for the supply of Arnott's Family Assorted was not renewed. Yet at some point a Meaningless Change can signify Significant Change, and it looks like the zeitgeist has decided that the seats are where our congregations have drawn the line. The thought runs: If the seats are getting moved around this week, what is this guy going to start saying about Jesus next week?

Opposition to chair-moving typically comes as a shock to the humble cleric, who sees no reason why this should be the Heresy Marker, but it really should not be if he has taken into account the compact of Spatial Responsibility. Laity and Clergy (in the Anglican system at least) have a compact to defend the Gospel in their gatherings. The Minister takes responsibility for the Pulpit and Table (and a Choir if he is really unlucky). The Laity also proclaims the Gospel in the meeting, but in a different way and different space. When a young man dons the collar he fundamentally Changes Space, and therefore inherits an insensibility to the perspective of his sheep. Things that Don't Matter to him Matter very much to the saints whom he expects to listen patiently to his droning on too long in the pulpit week-by-week.

Imagine, for a moment, that a minister of a fairly Low parish should be confronted at the next vestry meeting by a popular vote to install two plain candlesticks on the Table. Now, candles are very nice and I use them myself whenever a Romantic Atmosphere is required in the home. It also may be argued that a simple light on the Table might draw attention to the True Light during or sacramental celebrations. For all the plausible arguments that might be made, there are probably not many Evangelical Anglican ministers whose hackles would not arise at the intrusion of such a Symbol of Popery on his table. Next week it might be incense, icons, prayers to Mary, offerings for the dead!

Now consider how your poor parishioner feels about you stealing his seat.

I throw it out there as a theory. You've heard me bang on too long. If you've bothered to read right through you may now reward yourself by watching this.

Baxter #4 - Teach Your Children (and Adults) Well

One of the great Australian memoirs of the 20th Century was Robin Dalton's Aunts Up The Cross. In it Dalton recalls her eccentric upbringing in bohemian Kings Cross in the years leading up to World War II. Her house was filled with an assortment of genteel relatives in reduced circumstances, including a great-aunt who would wear a fox-fur cape and sunglasses to bed. Dalton recalls her mother as a woman imbibed with the Australian love of gambling in all forms, in particular horse racing and Bridge. Despite her mother's passion for cards, Dalton herself never learned to play Bridge as she was often told (directly or otherwise) that playing bad Bridge was in such poor taste as to border on a sin. It was easier for her never to learn, a move which reveals that despite the obvious bond between mother and daughter that permeates the narrative there was no plan to pass on this particular family passion in a relevant and non-threatening way.

In the second half of The Reformed Pastor, Baxter turns his attention to the task of catechesis. He is of the opinion that, despite the many advances that the English Church had taken over the previous century, the laity were still woefully ignorant of the most basic aspects of the Christian Faith. Worse still, when questions of faith did arise they were generally unwilling to go to their local ministers to have their minds set at rest. Baxter has already stated that he felt that the clergy were generally well equipped to answer such questions and indeed had rejoiced at the fact that the standard of ministers in the realm was so high. Preaching from the pulpit had proved not to be effective at combating general ignorance. Therefore, Baxter contends that a primary responsibility of the clergy should be the active education of those under his care in the fundamentals of the Christian faith. It is not enough to assume that they will pick up knowledge by osmosis or private study.

Baxter proposes that each minister have a plan to visit his sheep in turn, to enquire as to their spiritual health and knowledge, and to instruct them privately on any points on which they are confused or ignorant. While not wishing to detract at all from the ministry of the pulpit, he feels that this must be complemented by private instruction if it is to have the most profitable impact. He rightly discerns that during sermons the preacher cannot pace his message to suit all people equally, and so many will either get left behind or become distracted during the message. However, in private consultation, the minister can open the Scriptures and repeat his points carefully to make sure the individual understands what is being taught and can have opportunities for questions or objections. In such a way the individual is matured in their faith and comes to know that the minister is as much a private instructor as a public orator, making it more likely that the minister will be consulted on matters of faith and doctrine again in the future. Such a ministry breaks down the barriers between clergy and laity, gives general confidence to what is being taught, and will head off superstitions or heresy.

Over the last several days I attended a ministry conference where congregation retention across demographics was discussed in the context of the diocesan plan for church growth. It struck me that while our evangelism strategies (and implementation) could always be better, our greatest problem is not one of evangelism but of catechesis, particularly in our youth ministry. NCLS figures show that we have no problem in attracting numbers to our children and youth ministries, but there tends to be a dramatic drop in adolescence and early adulthood. I believe this results from a glitch in our thinking with which Baxter can assist. Much effort is given to strategies for running programs, events, and pastoral strategies for youth. Little is given to catechesis, despite its strong avocation by generations of evangelicals.

I am aware that this issue has been addressed before, but I am adding my voice to the chorus. We need to get serious about instructing our youth in the apostolic and catholic faith. It is inexcusable if we are in the situation of asking our senior youth what a Sacrament is or what the Creeds teach and get only blank looks in reply. As far as I am aware there are not any local diocesan resources for instructing our youth in preparation for Confirmation. On that note, when exactly did Confirmation become an Optional Extra? We need to start younger and do better!

Baxter #3 - Humility Through Introspection

A criticism frequently levelled at the Puritans is that a tendency towards introspection led to misapplication of perfectly good theological principles. Perhaps they were the Gen X of the 17th Century. I could imagine John Owen or Richard Sibbes gently weeping into their small beer as they contemplated the profundity of the latest offerings by The Pixies or Mudhoney on their Ye Olde Walkmans. Then again, maybe I can't...

Yet, to be absolutely fair, the aim of Puritan theology was never navel gazing, but an honest examination of their souls in order to discover how they might serve God with more openness and honesty than was usually the case. Such indeed was the aim of Baxter in Chapter 3 of The Reformed Pastor.

At first I wondered as to whether some of this material would have been better united with Chapter 1. Certainly, much similar ground is covered. Yet here Baxter goes deeper than just common fault-finding. His aim is to uncover the sources of ecclesiastical rot, which must be located in the sinful soul.

The first problem to be dealt with is Pride. Because of Pride ministers fail to take care of those of their flock in most need of God's love, reserving their services for a Better Class Of Sinner. Pride is also responsible for a tender conscience, giving ministers an over-sensitivity that makes it difficult for them to accept (or others to give) fair criticism. Once again, I believe that Baxter and Chrysostom are approaching the same problem from different angles. While Chrysostom believes that evidence of vanity should exclude the unworthy from the priesthood, Baxter believes that all ministers should examine their motives and eliminate the vanity they find as much as possible. Baxter is positive that, with help from the Holy Spirit, improvement can be achieved. Chrysostom appears to hold character as set in stone. Although, as Dr. Phil says, past behaviour is a good predictor of future behaviour.

The second sin in Baxter's sights is Sloth (or, as he puts it, neglect of pastoral duties). Baxter has no time for those who, having accepted the Lord's challenge to put their shoulder to the wheel, find the work tiresome or not to their taste. How appropriate is this message in the modern age, when distractions assault even the most faithful Gospel worker! Baxter urges all ministers to devote themselves not only to serious study but also to the improvement of their preaching. He desires all to be earnest in their proclamation so that many might be moved to repentance. I think that earnestness is a preaching trait not seen as much as it should.

Also up for criticism is the factionalism of church politics. Baxter acknowledges that alliances and disagreements will be a natural part of any institution. However, he has strong words for those devotion to Sect over Saviour leads to unnecessary division, upsetting the Christian desire for peace. I am aware that Anglicans in Sydney have a reputation for loving a theological scrap, but in my association with many ministers I have rarely found this to be the case. Most would prefer cooperation to be the order of the day, but when faced with serious gospel challenges will not allow the message of Jesus to be compromised. As one of my revered teachers puts it, at least in Sydney matters are out in the open and discussed freely instead of being concentrated in shadowy cliques that include only the few.

Lastly, it is gratifying to see (in answer to some of my concerns of last week) that Baxter does not eliminate the issue of church discipline altogether, but instead gives it some attention in this chapter. On the positive side, he thinks that it is not given sufficient importance by pastors, going so far as to say that a minister who neglects discipline in his parish is just as bad as one who neglects poor preaching. On the negative, Baxter does not go into sufficient detail as to what a church with a healthy discipline system should look like. Perhaps his introspection up to this point makes it difficult for him to deal in tangibles.

I think it would be impossible for any minister to read this chapter of Baxter's work and not have their conscience stung in at least one tender place. These are the words of an experienced pastor who has seen it all before and had his heart broken as a result. While Baxter's list of sins is not comprehensive (representing only the major failings of his own time) there is much to be gained by a few moments quiet reflection of Baxter's still salient points.

Baxter #2 - Heeding Those In Your Care

In the dim distant past I was fortunate enough to study psychology at university. As a result I always have plenty of material on hand to spice up dull dinner party conversation - 'werewolves', dissociative fugue, why that anti-AIDS "Bowling Death" ad was ineffective, etc. I also learned how to decode common mental tics like Deja-vu - that eerie feeling of having been/seen/heard something before. Despite what the psychics may espouse, deja-vu derives from a misfire in your synapses when, on the presentation of a stimulus, your natural 'Recognition -> Emotional Response' process is reversed. Your consciousness then attempts to compensate by giving you the "We've Been Here Before" feeling. Perfectly natural, but in this case it really is your mind playing tricks on you!

I had such a feeling reading through chapter 2 of The Reformed Pastor this week. However, in this case, I could pinpoint exactly where the feeling came from...

Baxter continues his discursus on the oversight of the church by expanding on his key text of Acts 20:28. After instructing his readers that they must begin by taking heed of themselves he then describes how they must take heed of those whom God has given them. It is at this point that the feeling of deja-vu kicks in. It is obvious that Baxter owes a great deal to Bucer in his second chapter. His identification of the different types of 'sheep' to be dealt with follows Bucer almost exactly and his instruction about restoring those who are lost in sin also follow Bucer's pattern. This in itself is not surprising. Though Bucer's work had not appeared in English, the debt that 17th Century Puritanism owed to 16th Century Geneva made it natural that Baxter should turn to the Reformation texts for inspiration.

Baxter, following Bucer, takes pains to outline the seriousness of the work of guarding souls and calling those who have not believed in Christ to put their faith in Him. He views the congregation as the central charge of the pastor, and expresses disdain for those weak leaders who seek a comfortable living or ecclesiastical preferment rather than preaching the Gospel. None are to be neglected, but the lost are to be sought, the injured healed, the weak strengthened, etc. Those who are interested in some of the niceties would do well to read my previous posts on Bucer - the effect would be the same.

I then began asking myself, since Bucer and Baxter appear to be of a similar mind, which of their treatments I preferred. After careful consideration it is my view that not much was gained in the 100 years that separate the two tracts, and in fact a few points have suffered in the ageing.

No-one for a moment questions that Baxter strove to be biblical in all his opinions. The problem is that he does not go out of his way to demonstrating it. In many ways the main weakness that applied to Herbert also applies to Baxter - a lack of broad engagement with Scripture to justify their positions. Perhaps this was just a question of contemporary style - I haven't read enough of the 17th Century divines, either Puritan or Moderate, to make a judgment. It was, of course, possible to quibble with Bucer's exegesis (indeed, given the advances in biblical scholarship, you would be concerned if you couldn't), but at least you could feel comfortable that he was attempting to use a range of texts to justify his pastoral applications. Baxter relies on one text, and while there is nothing objectionable in his conclusions it would have been nice to see him justify them occasionally.

An area in which Baxter differs markedly from Bucer is over the issue of public penance. It will be remembered that Bucer maintained that restoration of proper application of public penance was essential for the health of the church in those cases where gross sin has seriously damaged community as evidence that the repentance of the sinner has been genuine. Indeed, Bucer devoted a large portion of his treatise to this subject. However, Baxter ignores the subject completely, willing to take declarations of contrition as evidence enough of repentance. Bucer felt that pastoral discipline should extend to both the internal and the external spheres, while Baxter seems rooted in the former. Bucer's opinions swayed me initially and I have not had cause to alter my judgment.

This is not to dismiss Baxter's approach completely. On the whole he expands upon the work that Bucer had done previously, and his prose is both affecting and compelling. It is hard not to be moved while reading Baxter to do the very best possible in our pastoral roles. At some moments, however, Baxter's enthusiasm appears to run away with him and he is not as systematic as someone like Calvin would have been. Several of his points regarding the manner of oversight overlap greatly and it is possible that this section could have been simplified. However, this was probably a tendency of the age and should not be judged too harshly.

Baxter #1 - Test Yourself

Greetings my public!

I must grovel for your pardon at not having updated sooner, but I was caught up in the maelstrom of Easter followed by a delightful holiday. During my absence I have slowly been ploughing through Richard Baxter's major pastoral work The Reformed Pastor. A couple of observations before I begin.

First, I must admit to being less than convinced of the merits of Puritanism. This is not to say that I disagree with the major theological thrusts of the great 17th Century divines (Sibbes, Owen, Baxter, etc). Indeed, from what I have read, they contributed a great deal to our understanding of Scripture and provided valuable reflection on the work of the Genevan Reformers of the previous century. However, it is clear that Puritanism was more "fine china" than "sturdy mug" - prone to easy fracturing and therefore must be handled gently. I am yet to form a judgment on their ecclesiology (perhaps Baxter will help in this regard) but to my eye it seems unnecessarily minimalist. Perhaps those who more schooled than myself in this period will throw up their hands at my assumptions, but I am willing to admit that my views come from ignorance. I am determined to approach Baxter in the same way that I approached Herbert, without preconceptions about the fitness of the views that I will find. I am aware that Puritanism has strongly influenced my own tradition - I wish to discover if this has been an influence for the good by keeping a critical approach to the text.

Second, I am extremely glad that I read Chrysostom before starting with Baxter. As will be seen, they approach the question of "pastoral fitness" from completely different angles, shaped by their cultures and experiences. It has reminded me how deep the wells of theology can go. It seems the more I read the more I need to read.

Baxter begins his treatise like a doctor examining a sick patient. His aim is to correct the poor standards of pastoral ministry then operating in England. Those who believe that the age of turbulent priests ended with Henry VIII should look to Baxter's work for an alternate view. Laziness, immorality, careerism, and open disdain for God's Word came just as easily to a Protestant church as to a Catholic one.

The solution that Baxter proposes contrasts markedly with that of Chrysostom. While the Golden Tongue wished to ensure that only the most incorruptible of the church should be advanced to ordination, Baxter starts with the assumption that corruptibility is a beast to be kept at bay by all those in ministry. Baxter is more theologically correct in his anthropology, but this does not mean that he is comfortably with lower standards. On the contrary, it is evident that Baxter wants only those who have a true heart to call people back to God to take on pastoral tasks. But even those whose motives are pure should be willing to submit themselves to frequent and rigorous spiritual examination to see whether their lives, faith, or doctrine has begun to decay. The title of Baxter's work is therefore most appropriate - there can be no pastor who is not reformed or in the process of reformation. To ignore this need and to rely on one's own moral standing to maintain purity is a dangerous game that puts souls in peril.

[note: I don't think that Chrysostom was exceedingly in error in his anthropology (though perhaps in his later years, given the bitter experiences that were to follow, he may have been more circumspect). Instead, I think that Chrysostom took the view that past performance was a good indicator of future behaviour. Those who had shown themselves worthy and godly servants in the past, full of charity and piety, were those who were less likely to resist the temptations that come with the pastoral office.]

Baxter's work is refreshing. It smacks of practical, sometimes bitter, experience of a national church that had not fulfilled the promises of the Reformation. Despite occasional archaisms, he paints a picture of the rough waters of ministry that is eerily familiar to anyone with a modicum of practical experience. If I was to have one criticism of this first section of the book it is that Baxter occasionally has a touch of the "Athanasian Lurgy"
- repeating points he has already made when answering a new question. While it means that he is less open to the charge of not answering objections fully it does lend a certain tediousness to his prose. Perhaps he will correct this as he goes on.